*Hi everyone, Kaitlyn (Goodnight_Saigon) here. Quick note: a character in this story is incredibly bigoted, racist, prejudiced, and overall, totally backwards. She does call another character a name that is considered offensive and made me uncomfortable to write, but to preserve the authenticity of that character's personality, I have kept it in. I hope I don't offend anyone. These are not my views, these are simply the words of a horrible character.*

Christmas at the Talbot House by Goodnight_Saigon 

Though the winter holidays were usually wet and often gloomy in the State of Maine due to the proximity of the Atlantic, this year the snowfall had been plentiful in the little town of Tolley; the colour white blanketed everything, making the roofs groan under the weight of the snow, and covering driveways that had been cleared only an hour before. Heaters worked on overdrive as the temperature plunged and most residents shut themselves into hibernation, only emerging from their safe and warm nests to restock on supplies or purchase last minute gifts that had somehow been forgotten in the maniac frenzy of the approaching holiday.

Due to its population and size, Christmas was as big as public celebrations got in Tolley, but even with fundraising efforts by the local community centre, the city council had been forced to dish out some extra funds to spend on a couple of ragtag floats and decorations for a Santa Claus Parade, which had taken place a week before the twenty-fifth. It was nothing particularly special with its twenty car procession, the crowning achievement consisting of the Howard family's oldest son in a pull-on beard and wig, and scarlet overalls stuffed with pillows, standing atop two rocking chairs pushed together and covered with a crimson-painted tarp to create a makeshift sleigh.

However, the majority of people did come out to watch, and even the Talbots, the wealthiest family in town, descended from their extravagant hilltop manor like the gods of Mount Olympus to grace the event with their presence.

The Talbots were an aging family, with two daughters out of the house and married, and a son taking a year off before he went to college in a neighbouring city. The parents were secluded and arrogant, many times sending their son to run errands in town rather than be forced to mingle with the 'plebeians' who were apparently beneath them.

This was fine with the general public, as, in addition to their antisocial behaviour, it was rumoured that the mother was an incredibly bigoted cow with a habit of sneakily filling her trademark carpetbag purse with anything that wasn't nailed down, and that the father was a perverted alcoholic who got his kicks groping anyone who wandered across his path and taking his wooden cane to the bottoms of misbehaving children.

Furthermore, the nature of their wealth was rooted deep in the property repurposing business, and the Talbot fortune only ever grew (the father was a penny pincher and a smart man who knew how to play the stock market). More and more ambitious projects awaited authorization by the city council, and the most recent undertaking was the controversial renovation of Tolley's only tourist attraction, a picturesque covered road-bridge that ran over top a small river, affectionately nicknamed the Tolley Toll Bridge (though no toll was actually in place).

However, in the recent months, many conservationists had held public protests against the construction work, arguing that it would destroy what little local history remained in the town, but of course, that was no concern to a man accustomed to getting what he wanted; Mister Talbot had scheduled the project to begin as soon as the snow melted, and with Tolley's vicinity to the warm winds of the coastline, it would not take very long.

Therefore, due to a plethora of different reasons, the Talbot family had grown to be disliked over the years.

Shae Chebet, second daughter of that unpopular family, knocked her head repeatedly against the steamy passenger window of her family car, a snub-nosed jeep not built for the snow, willing her headache to fly away with the chill wind outside.

"Malaika, don't do that, you'll hurt yourself."

She groaned, massaging her temples, and turned to face her husband, Kereenyaga, who had taken his eyes from the road momentarily to fix her in his gentle gaze. He gave her a small smile and took hold of her hand, humming along to the beginnings of Mariah Carey's Christmas classic on the radio as he brought the jeep to a halt, the scarlet glow of a stoplight blurring in the windshield with the falling snow and reflecting off his glasses.

Shae simply frowned, tugged her hand out of his grasp, and turned back to her window, pressing her forehead against the glass. The frigid cold from outside sunk into her skin, soothing the inflamed pounding that had now shifted to deep behind her eyes.

"Someone's not in the Christmas spirit."

She chose not to respond, instead watching a beautifully intricate snowflake lose its hold on the side-mirror as the car accelerated through the intersection.

"Imani, why don't you sing for Mommy?" he said, glancing in the rear-view to see their four-year-old drawing shapes in the condensation clinging to the window. "Make my wish come true..."

"Daddy, shh! Your voice is bad!"

"Oh, really?"

Shae felt her daughter's feet against the back of her seat as she kicked and squirming, trying to get away from Kereen's hand, which had suddenly reached back to tickle her. Imani squealed, laughing and giggling, shrieking, "Daddy! Daddy, stop it!"

When the two of them had settled down and the drive had become silent again except for the radio, Kereen said with exasperation, "You can't stay mad at me forever, Malaika."

She broke her vow of silence, feeling the pounding of her headache intensify. "Just watch me."

"They're your family."

She turned to face him again, becoming frustrated. "I don't care, they're not decent people."

He frowned, staring far down the road; there was very little traffic, most townsfolk spending the blizzardy day before Christmas inside with their families, some preparing elaborate holiday feasts for later that night. "You shouldn't say that."

"You don't know them, Kereen," she argued. "My mom's a racist a-hole, my sister's an alcoholic just like our dad, my brother is a wannabe vampire! The town hates us. I don't want Imani exposed to this at her age. Why couldn't we just spend Christmas with your parents?"

The car was warm and stuffy, the air tense. The wind whipped powdery snow against the windows, howling its dismay that it couldn't reach the occupants of the jeep. A muscle worked in Kereen's jaw as his patience began to ebb. He quickly responded with growing irritation, prompting another furious retort from his wife. Their daughter sat quietly in the back, watching her parents argue with a strange childish sense that something was not right.

For the first time in seven years, Shae was coming home for the holidays. Christmas at the Talbot House was a family tradition, and also one that she had tried to avoid at all costs, but this year fate had intervened; the annual phone call invitation from her mother had come while she'd been at the neighbour's house for a cup of tea and Kereen was the one who had picked up.

Each year, Shae's half of the conversation went a little something like this: "Mom. Mom. Mom, stop crying. No, look— No, just listen for a minute. I'm sorry. No, really I am. Yes, I know you want to see Imani... That's her name, Mom, we aren't changing it. Yes. Yeah. No, I understand, but we can't make it this year." Then she would try and think of a new excuse, or at least one that was different from last year's while her mother continued to pretend to sob into the receiver, moaning that her heart was broken. "Mom. Mom! You're being overdramatic! No, I'm not sassing you. No. No, it's not that we don't want to see you... Imani's got the flu and I don't want her to pass it on to Grandma Dorothy. No. Yeah, I know. Okay. Okay. Uh-huh. I know you want to see us. Okay. Yeah, Mom. Maybe next year... Yep, I love you too. Give everyone a big hug from all of us. Okay. Okay, bye."

"Maybe next year".

She had said that for nearly the past decade, ever since her second year of university when she had finally found the courage to stay at school over the holidays.

Of course, some Christmases in Tolley had been easier to avoid, like when she had been overseas in Kenya during the winter break for a unique school program in her fourth year. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be part of her university's international exchange to the East-African city of Nairobi where she and many other social entrepreneurs from around the world had congregated to discuss environmental, social, political, and economical issues within and outside the city.

It was an experience she would keep with her forever, even more so because she had met her bespectacled future-husband by chance one day while she went on a coffee run. They had hit it off immediately, spending any time they could spare with each other for the duration of the four month program, and when Shae had had to leave, Kereen had made her a promise.

"I will marry you, Shae Talbot," he had said with his gentle gaze and his soft smile as they stood together in the lobby of Jomo Kenyatta International on her final evening in Nairobi. "Someday when we meet again."

And then with her hands sweaty and her mouth dry, her luggage at her feet, her flight leaving in less than an hour, she had countered with, "How about now?"

That had been that.

Kereen had proposed to her in the airport with a piece of string he could tie around her finger, there had been a tearful embrace as several people applauded, and then Shae was on a plane back to the States, newly betrothed and emailing her fiancé about everything she had to do to be able to live with him in Nairobi.

Their engagement was a whirlwind of planning and preparation, but all their dreams ground to a halt due to a positive late-night pregnancy test only a week after the proposal. Knocked up by a man whom she hadn't even tied the knot with yet... What would her mother say? There had been lots of crying, a hysterical phone call, many reassurances, and then, a few days later, a knock on her apartment door from her husband-to-be who had scraped together enough money for a round-trip plane ticket to Portland, Maine.

"You'll be okay, Malaika," he had said, lightly pressing her against him as she tried not to burst into tears again with the overwhelming gravity of the situation. "Nakupenda. I love you. We'll get through this together."

Their lives had been far from perfect at times, from the process of applying for a fiancé visa, to the legal fight to actually get married, to the struggle for Kereen's green card, to the premature birth of their daughter, to the midnight arguments that tore at both of their hearts, but the unlikely couple had survived everything to be finally living together, without fear of breaking the law, in Portland, a two hours' drive from Tolley (which still wasn't as far enough away as Shae would have liked from her hometown).

Now, obviously she had known that she would have to return sooner or later (though her fingers had been crossed for the latter), but she had imagined that when the dreaded time came, it would be on her terms. However, fate had intervened; the enemy (her mother) had called to invite the Chebet family over for Christmas, and without her there to explain what a bad idea that was, Kereen had naively said yes. When she had walked through the door to hear her husband chuckling to himself as he hung up the phone, an irrational sort of panic had started blooming in the pit of her stomach, though she hadn't known who had called, a feeling that continued to intensify as they got ever closer to the enormous house on the hill.

Suddenly aware that Imani was sniffling, Shae broke off midsentence from arguing that they did have the money to visit Nairobi for a week or two to turn around, locking eyes with her daughter. Her face was crumpled into itself, her lip stuck out as far as it could go, and she had curled into a ball as much as her car seat would allow.

Shae reached out a hand with a small degree of shock. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"I don't like it when you fight," whimpered Imani, latching onto her mother's outstretched arm.

"Oh, sweetheart... We're not fighting, we're just..."

She rubbed her eyes. "Angry talking?"

Kereen chuckled and a smile crept onto Shae's face. With each passing day, she was more and more thankful that she hadn't gone through with an abortion, overcome with love for their beautiful child with her dark chocolate curls, rich, earthy eyes, and father's gorgeous black skin. She was incredibly compassionate and intelligent for her age, surpassing any hopes her proud parents had ever held and continuing to amaze them with each passing day. The sensitivity was what Shae was most surprised about; Imani seemed to pick up on subtle changes in emotion, always knowing when her parents were annoyed with one other and always trying to patch the situation as best as a four-year-old could.

"Not anymore, baby." Shae gave her hand a squeeze. "No more fighting."

"Okay... Promise?"

Kereen looked up into the rear-view mirror, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Promise. You know that we love each other, right?"

Imani nodded slowly.

"Well, it's just that sometimes your mother and I disagr—"

"KEREEN!"

The jeep swerved as Shae lunged for the wheel, pulling it towards her as a small, dark shape, illuminated in the headlights, darted through the blizzard in front of them. The car skidded on the icy road, the brakes locking, and there was a jarring THUMP THUMP that jolted the Chebet family in their seats.

Shae let out a small shriek as the car continued to slide, Tolley's famed tourist attraction, the covered Toll Bridge, appearing suddenly between the falling snowflakes, quickly coming towards them. The wood was timeworn and unstable in some parts; if they hit the side-rail with enough force, they would crash through and plunge twenty or so feet into the ravine below.

However, with increasing relief it became clear that whatever they had hit had blown out a tire and that the snow was slowing them down. Remembering his driver's training and releasing the brake, Kereen steered the jeep through the sheltered bridge, safely, though at a much faster pace than he would have liked, before bringing the car to an unsteady halt at the side of the road.

All of the car's occupants were silent for a moment, their hearts pounding in time with the franticly-paced jingle bells on the radio. Kereen's hands were shaking on the wheel, white-knuckled claws holding on for dear life and Shae had dug her nails into the palms of her hand, bracing for impact.

The radio crackled as a new song started and they both jumped, startling them out of their shock. Without a word, Kereen pushed the door open and got out, slamming it behind him as he walked back towards the bridge. Shae watched him out of the rear-view mirror until the blizzard swallowed him up, and then undid her belt to check on her daughter who was completely fine and serenely looking out the window again. Only Imani would cry about her parents arguing but stay calm after nearly getting into a car accident.

Church bells chimed from the stereo, becoming distorted as the wind howled and raged outside, surely damaging the broadcast towers. Shae shivered as the song began, the singer's voice transforming into a low growl. "It's Christmas time, and there's no need to be afraid..."

The static grew louder, engulfing the melody, and as Shae reached to turn the radio off, a dark form materialized on the car hood. She screamed, trapped in her seat, scrambling to lock the car doors. Beady red eyes stared directly at her from a strangely humanoid face that gnashed its jagged teeth, and the thing began to glow before dissolving into the snowy night.

Shae's piercing scream was still ringing around the car when her husband returned, knocking on the window for her to let him in, nearly causing her to let out another yell. He slid into the driver's seat while the radio sputtered, spitting out in a frightening voice, "There's a world outside your window, and it's a world of dread and fear..."

"Kereen," Shae breathed, barely above a whisper. "Kereen, there was something outside."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, taking off his fogged-up glasses and shaking the snow out of his short hair. "I think we hit a fucking porcupine."

"No, that's not—" She broke off. "A porcupine?"

"I think so. I've never seen one up close before, but it had the quills. Of course, it was a bit squished and bloody so I didn't perform a full autopsy." He raised an eyebrow, placing his glasses back on his nose and pushing them up. "It popped a tire, but I think we're okay to get to your parent's house if we go slowly. I'll put the spare on before we leave."

"A porcupine..." Shae nearly laughed at the absurdity, her nerves still shaken. "Did you happen to see another one when you came back? There was something on the hood, an animal or..." She froze, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, overcome with a memory from her childhood.

She tuned her husband's reassurances out as the car began to slowly creep forward for the last couple miles, gazing at her side mirror to see the Toll Bridge gradually disappear behind them. It had been decked out for the holidays with a festive wreath and large red ribbon placed on the overhang, but no manner of decorations would balance out the creepiness it simply oozed with its dark stained-glass windows full of spider web cracks and alien shapes.

When Shae had been her daughter's age, the bridge was a favourite hangout for curious children, to the dismay of their mothers. Being a two-lane vehicle bridge spanning a swift stream at the bottom of a gorge, it was dangerous for kids to play anywhere near the site, though despite their parents' warning they continued to anyway.

It wasn't until one of the local boys, Gerard Marlowe, fell to his death from the bridge that the rumours that the place was demonically sinister began to spread. Shae was five at the time and though she hadn't been close with Gerard, it had made almost too much sense that a monster or ghost had caused him to slip that fateful day; he was one of the best climbers out of all the kids and had scaled the outside walkway too many times before to lose his footing in the middle of an arid summer.

Immediately, parents jumped on this tragic opportunity, telling their children of horrible trolls that lived under the bridge, waiting for anyone small and easy to carry off to drag into the river and drown, in an attempt to scare them into staying away. There was even a rhyme that the school kids had sang while passing the deteriorating structure, now avoiding it like the plague:

Tolley, Tolley, Tolley,

Watch out for the trollies.

They'll grab you, they'll drag you,

Your soul to pay their toll.

Souly, souly, souly,

A soul for hungry trollies.

Their mouths are wide, you cannot hide,

You have to pay the toll.

Holy, holy, holy,

The night is full of trollies.

A helpless pawn to Devil's spawns,

Your soul to pay their toll.

Your soul... That was what parents had told their children would be forfeit if they played on the bridge. Shae absentmindedly hummed the old tune, thinking of trolls. There was no truth to the rumours, but yet something had been on the hood of her car...

She tried to push it out of her mind as the jeep started the ascent up to her childhood home on the hill, the other neighbourhood houses draped in sparkling Christmas lights that gleamed like beacons in the blowing snow. They guided them towards the three-story mansion in a way that reminded Shae of the red carpet of Hollywood at a movie premiere, with all the spotlights framing the big movie stars.

Pulling through the wrought iron gates of the property, the jeep skidded a little on the icy driveway, drifting into the piles of snow that rose on either side of the road like walls, but even as the mirror on the passenger's side scraped the ramparts of ice, Kereen stayed calm, his teeth gritted with the effort of staying in control.

The two adults breathed a collective sigh of relief when they finally rolled to a halt, pulling into a small parking-lot-like area where the other cars were parked, thankful to have arrived in one piece.

"That was fun," Imani chirped, bouncing around in her car seat. "Can we do it again?"

Her parents laughed, letting out their pent-up anxiety. Kereen put the car into park and leaned over the console, leaving a lingering kiss on the side of his wife's mouth. "Well, we made it, Malaika." He grinned teasingly. "You know if we had crashed and I had died, you would have had to live knowing that the last conversation we had was an argument."

Shae shuddered. "Please don't say that... I'm sorry, Kereen."

"About what?"

"Everything."

She didn't have to elaborate; he just understood. That was one of the things she loved about him.

"Nakupenda," he murmured, pecking her on the cheek again before undoing his belt and stepping out of the car. That was another thing she treasured: how often he told her that he loved her.

Shae got out of the car as well, and was reaching for the door handle to help Imani out of her car seat when her heart stuttered. Drawn in the condensation on the window by her daughter were monstrous creatures covered in spikes, their noses enlarged and hooked, their slashed mouths full of fangs. She jumped as her daughter's face appeared in window, watching curiously, wondering why her mother hadn't let her out yet.

"Baby, what are those?" Shae whispered once able to move again, opening the door and undoing the seatbelt.

Imani looked back at the window, studying her pictures. "I don't know their names. I think maybe W... W-W-Wudge," she said, faltering over her 'W' sounds.

"They don't look very happy."

She tilted her head to the side. "That's because they're not happy, Mommy."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "You have to pay the toll."

Shae heart nearly stopped, her head pounding in time with her weak pulse. "What did you just—?"

"Is everything okay, girls?" Kereen peered around the side of the jeep. "Can I have some help carrying the food?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Imani ran off, grabbing the bottle of red wine that Kereen was holding for her, a ceramic dish covered in tinfoil carefully pressed to his chest. Earlier that day, he had excitedly prepared tilapia and made ugali, one of his favourite Kenyan meals, to share with the Talbot family.

Shae exhaled, her breath billowing into the frigid night air. Something didn't feel right. She couldn't explain it, but her family house oozed a sense of foreboding. However, as Imani tripped and slid back to her mother, offering her the wine bottle, which she took, Shae had to shake it out of her head.

The family of three walked up the stone pathway, Imani holding one of each of her parents' hands, her little winter boots slipping on patches of ice. Kereen and Shae pulled her up so that she was suspended between them and couldn't fall, her laugh of delight the only sound besides the roar of the snow as they swung her back and forth. The Chebets came to a stop on the porch, waiting before the grand ebony wood doors with a sense of apprehension, the tension of the situation resembling the sensation of standing on a precipice above a chasm, the wind threatening to send them toppling into the abyss below.

Shae blew out a breath, her stomach churning, gripping the neck of the wine bottle like it was a lifeline as Kereen lifted their daughter up the silver door knocker, balancing the food dish precariously in one hand. In time with her mother's pounding heart, Imani clumsy rapped on the door, her little fingers barely wrapping all the way around the handle. The three of them waited, shivering as the chill wind viciously bit at the exposed skin of their faces.

A sharp pain stabbed into Shae's temple as a sensation that something was watching them exploded into being and Imani giggled suddenly from where she was nestled in the crook of her father's arm. With a sharp intake of breath, her hands shot to her head and the wine slipped from between her gloved fingers to smash with a melodic tinkling on the snowy porch below, spraying glass everywhere as the front door swung inward.

"Oh!"

Kimberly Talbot, oldest daughter of the extraordinarily wealthy family, jumped back from the open doorway in shock, jagged shards now glittering on the glossy hardwood floor within.

At the same time, Kereen moved to his wife's side, his steadying hand at her elbow, Imani's sudden laughter being whisked away into the night with the blowing snow.

"Sorry!" Shae gasped, shaking her head as the pain dulled. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! I-It slipped!" She blinked, turning abruptly to look behind them, searching the blizzard for whatever had given her the feeling of being watched. There was nothing but white as far as the eye could see.

Kim put a hand on the hip of her accentuated hourglass figure, pursing her lips with an exasperated look, the other hand loosely holding a crystal flute of amber-coloured liquid. "Way to make an entrance, butterfingers."

"Yeah, well... it's good to see you too." Shae's shock was wearing off, replaced with a mild embarrassment that only increased as she caught sight of her pale face in the glass pane of the door, a look of wild panic sunken into her eyes. She composed herself as best she could and took Imani from Kereen's arms, stepping over the red wine pooling at their feet that was already starting to freeze in the sub-zero temperature and across the threshold, her husband following behind her. Fragments of glass crunched underfoot, sparkling innocently, and Kim shut the door, apparently unconcerned about the scarlet stain steadily spreading across the snow-covered concrete.

Standing in the grand foyer of his in-laws mansion, Kereen was understandably awestruck, faced with such extravagance that words had deserted him; on both sides of the entranceway, snaking around several Corinthian-style marble pillars, two magnificent crimson-carpeted staircase stretched upwards, joining at the second floor landing to lead to the next story, a wraparound balcony that framed the largest and most ornate chandelier Kereen had ever seen. It glittered like a white gold sun overhead, sending its light to dance and shimmer off of everything it surveyed.

Everything was trimmed in silver and red, from the intricate ebony banisters on the staircases, to the painting frames on the wall, to the handsome wooden doors that stood eight feet tall, and Kereen could see why as he craned his neck towards the high ceiling and was met with a spectacular sight; spanning the entire surface was the family's crest, a powerful carmine lion on a field of silver bordered by obsidian shadows.

"Holy shit," he murmured, wide-eyed, reaching for his wife's hand as if to ground himself in this sea of wealth and luxury.

Shae felt even more embarrassed. Her career was committed to trying to help struggling families all over the world to get back on their feet, and here was the home she had grown up in, built specifically to flaunt social status and standard of living in the faces of those less fortunate.

It made her sick.

"Shailene!"

The Chebets jumped. Kim simply shook her head, pacing across the floor with a pleasing clacking sound created by her stilettos to disappear behind the doors directly in front of them.

"What is wrong with you, child?" a grating voice criticized from an open doorway to their left. "Where are your manners, for God's sake? Dry off your things before you ruin the finish with all that snow!" A stick of a woman on the other side of fifty (but refusing to admit it) with dyed ginger hair and a face full of rouge was tapping her high-heeled foot disapprovingly, lips pursed.

Shae's right eye twitched and her headache flared up again, her blood pressure already starting to rise. The thing she had dreaded had finally appeared, the creature that haunted her darkest nightmares, lipstick slashed mouth berating and screeching like a chorus of devils: her mother. Of course the first words out of her mouth had been a scolding. There was no "Good to see you, Shae!" or "How are you, Shae?" Nope. Straight to verbal abuse, just like always.

"Hi, Mom," she said weakly, flashing a fake smile as she made sure to spread the puddle of water from her shoes further across the floor. Imani hid behind her father's legs at the appearance of the stick insect that was her grandmother.

"'Hi, Mom'? That's all I get after seven years? Brat." Her mother sniffed, turning on her heel and marching her way back into the room she had come from, but not before muttering in an undertone that echoed throughout the whole space, "Ran off, had a bastard child, now shows up with a negro blacker than the night sky and expect a 'Hi, Mom' is going to make things better? Jesus."

Kereen covered Shae's trembling hands with his own, sensing the anger beginning to spark. "Krismasi Njema! It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Talbot," he called after the retreating figure, which merely waved a hand to indicate she had heard.

"Do you see?" Shae immediately hissed at her husband, crouching to take off Imani's coat but fumbling due to the shaking in her fingers. "She's going to say these things all night, Kereen, and I won't stand for it! She'll insult you or Imani over my dead body, and no sooner!" She finally got the jacket off and hung it on the doorknob to the cloakroom, not wanting to show Kereen another reminder of how prim and proper her family was.

He cupped her flushed face in his hands, bringing her to her feet and pulling her in close. He smelled like the pine air freshener in their jeep and the slightly fishy scent of his traditionally pepper-spiced tilapia dish as he kissed her softly. Shae tried to stay as frigid like the ice outside, but ended up melting, her tension lessening with his touch. They broke apart slowly and Kereen embraced her, rubbing circles on her back. "Just give her another chance, maybe this was a one-time thing."

"I doubt it..."

"It's okay, Malaika. Her words don't mean anything to me. They shouldn't mean anything to you either."

She was silent for a moment, listening to the pounding of the blood through her head. He didn't know her mother. He didn't understand... but maybe that was okay, because he was trying to.

"Shae, get your ass in here, everyone wants to say hello!" shouted Kim from deeper in the house.

She frowned, her head twinging again, but allowed herself to be tugged forward by her curious daughter as Kereen gave her a peck on the cheek for reassurance, his hand slipping into hers.

"Are you ready?"

She swallowed. "Not really."

"We'll be fine. We can always leave early if things get out of hand." He smiled gently before whispering in her ear, "Nakupenda," as the ebony doors loomed in front of them like the entrance to a dungeon.

"Nakupenda pia," she replied quietly. I love you too.

One dinner with her family, that was all. One dinner with her crazy, prejudiced, condescending, maddening, superiority-complexed family.

What could go wrong? Shae thought uneasily as they crossed the threshold into the spacious drawing room where her family was gathered, the doors snapping closed behind them with the finality of a death blow from an executioner's axe.

****

To be continued...

You can find the rest on my profile which I will upload on Christmas, or it could possibly appear in this book at a later date! Thanks for reading!