As Cora sat in the passenger seat of Farron's parents' car, stiff with nerves, she regretted having the power of information at her fingertips. When she had done an internet search for "meeting partner's family," she had been hoping to do a last-minute verification that she was fully prepared for the night ahead. Instead, all she confirmed was the complete opposite.

Sure, she had a gift sitting on her lap, was wearing a simple burgundy dress, and had a mental list of topics to avoid, but that wasn't enough. She was missing time—approximately eleven weeks, actually.

"After your first date, you should wait about three months before meeting your partner's parents," multiple articles advised. The best Cora could offer was ten days, and they were already yards away from Farron's family home. She couldn't back out now.

There was a soft tap at the driver's door. A second later, it opened, and Farron stuck their head in. "Hey. Sorry to interrupt, but..."

Cora gulped. "Five minutes already?"

Farron winced with sympathy. "It's been twelve."

"Shoot," Cora whispered, her voice squeaking. But she couldn't help it. She was nowhere near prepared for what was about to come.

With a soft sigh, Farron clamored back into the driver's seat and closed the door behind them, then held their hand over the center console. When Cora eventually took it, they didn't hesitate to hold her tight, then place their other hand on top.

"They're going to love you," they whispered, their low, husky voice filling the small vehicle. "Do you know how I know that?"

After waiting a beat to find her voice, Cora gave up and slowly shook her head.

Farron smiled, their fingers brushing over Cora's skin. "Because what they want most for me is to be happy. And you, Cora Chun...you make me happy."

With that, Cora felt her lips begin to tremble. Maybe it was the stress of meeting Farron's family for the first time, or maybe it was her lack of sleep the night before, or maybe it was her run-in with the bakery auntie from the day prior, but Farron's admission filled Cora with a warmth that was becoming more familiar by the day. If she had been under any more mental strain, Cora bet she would've started crying right then and—oh, she was already crying. Nevermind.

"Sorry," Cora choked out through her soft sobs. "That just means a lot to me."

Farron chuckled as they used one of their hands to help Cora wipe the tears trickling down her cheeks. "That's good. Because you mean a lot to me too."

Of course, that only made Cora cry harder.

It was another ten minutes before they finally left the borrowed car, just long enough for Cora's tears to stop and the red around her eyes to fade. Still, as they approached the quaint one-story house with its small yard, half filled with a tree and its attached swing, Cora had a feeling her relative calm was only temporary. If Farron's caring words were enough to turn Cora into a sobbing mess, what would the rest of the night bring, surrounded by Farron's family?

Farron stopped and turned to her. "You ready?"

Cora glanced past them. Oh great, they were already at the front door? "Uh..."

Before she could respond, the door swung open. Just inside was a young man, maybe a few years younger than Farron, with a bored expression and a half-eaten ma tai su in hand. He stared at Farron for a few seconds, chewing slowly, before turning to Cora.

Cora stood rigid to avoid fidgeting. While the man's eyes looked similar to Farron's, they were nowhere near as warm, and the rest of his features were much sharper. If anything, only their hair was similar: short and black.

He glanced down at Farron again, then back up at Cora. "Holy shit, that is a height difference."

Farron scoffed. "Shut up. You're just jealous."

"I am. I actually am." He started to reach out his hand, realized he was still holding the savory pastry, then stuck out his other side. "I'm Brandon. The best looking of the Kam siblings."

"Maybe if you were an only child," Farron said as Cora accepted the handshake. "Even then, you'd have to worry about Mom and Dad getting a dog—or that goat they've always wanted."

"Nice to meet you," Cora said, trying to make her stiff smile appear genuine as her mind rushed through her mental notes on Farron's family. "I'm Cora."

"Not even flinching at my oily fingers..." Brandon nodded, then turned to Farron. "I like her better than the last one."

Farron sighed before shoving him inside, ignoring his yelps of protest. "And I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Mom!" Brandon whined. "Farron's wearing their shoes in the house!"

"Am not, you little liar."

"You're the little one."

"And you're not much taller."

As Farron and their brother continued to bicker inside the entryway, Cora snuck in behind them, gently closing the door as she slipped off her flats. The smell of food greeted her, a mouth-watering combination of hoisin and oyster sauce, along with a gentle sizzling of the stove. Chatter lingered in the background, the static-laced Cantonese from a TV slightly louder than the English gossip about a neighbor's poor parking etiquette. Photos dotted the walls, each with a different frame, documenting an assortment of events: graduations, weddings, birthdays, performances, picnics—

"Mom!" Brandon yelled. "Farron—"

His words were cut off when Farron pulled him into a headlock and clamped their hand over his mouth.

"Sorry," Farron said to Cora with a sheepish grin. "He's the middle child."

Cora nervously chuckled, more concerned about how the gossiping voices fell quiet with Brandon's yelling.

"Farron?" an older woman's voice asked. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Farron called back, kicking their shoes off while holding their struggling brother.

"And..." There were murmurs from voices of different pitches. "Your friend is with you?"

Farron sighed as they turned to Cora with a smile. "Yeah, Ma. So everyone needs to be on their best behavior."

"I'm always on my best behavior," a younger woman mumbled. "It's Mom we need to watch out for."

As muttered bickering started up out of sight, and Farron grumbled to their brother for licking their hand, Cora had no idea how to handle the situation she had just walked into. She had a feeling none of the arguments were serious, at least. Farron had warned her about the potential banter while they made mooncakes the night before. Hearing about it was one thing. Hearing it actually happen was another.

Cora clutched the gift bag's handles a little tighter. The last thing she needed to do was drop and break it before she introduced herself.

Farron released their brother, wiping their hand on his T-shirt sleeve with a grimace. "Seriously, did you just come over here to embarrass me?"

Brandon frowned as he rubbed his neck. "Of course. I needed to let Cora know what she's getting into. And apparently, you need to stop going to the gym."

With a scoff, Farron shoved the reusable bag they were holding into their brother's chest. "Just take this inside and leave us alone."

When Brandon finally left, grumbling all the while, Farron turned to Cora with a wince. "Sorry about him. How are you doing?"

Cora took a deep breath, surprised by how shaky it was. "Hanging in there."

Farron's smile was sympathetic, and when they held out their hand—the clean one, thankfully—Cora didn't hesitate to take it. Part of her was concerned about the first impression it would give to Farron's family, but the rest of her didn't care. They had planned to tell them the truth anyway. All Cora needed was the support. So after a few more seconds to calm herself, Cora nodded and followed Farron inside.

As soon as they rounded the corner, they saw the kitchen—along with the entirety of Farron's immediate family. Brandon was getting his head lightly whacked by an older woman at the kitchen island, but as soon as the latter spotted Cora, her stern frown was replaced by a joyous smile.

"You must be Cora!" she exclaimed, abandoning her chopping board to rush towards them. "I'm so glad to—"

"Mom, you're holding a knife," said the younger woman sitting on the other side of the island, her face buried in a thick textbook.

"Mom, what did we say about hugging?" Farron added, stepping slightly in front of Cora.

Their mom froze in place, holding her hands and knife up in surrender. "Don't make inappropriate noises while doing it?"

"No—well, that too. But that's for when you're eating."

Her mom thought for a moment longer. "Ask for permission first?" Then, after a nod from Farron, she turned back to Cora. "Hi, dear! Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?"

"You can say no, if you want," Farron said, squeezing Cora's hand.

"Please say no," the younger woman muttered into her textbook.

"Uh..." Cora glanced from Farron to their mom. "Sure! I'd be happy to."

Just before their mom could gleefully swoop in to attack Cora with an embrace, the younger woman groaned.

"Mom, the knife!" she said. "Seriously, you look like a serial killer."

After handing the knife off to Farron, their mom finally got the hug she had been waiting for, wrapping her arms around Cora and squeezing the air out of her. As much as Cora wanted to return it, her arms were pinned to her sides, and the most she could do was flail her hands like little fish fins while her vision was mostly obscured by the woman's dark, shoulder-length hair.

"Mom, please don't break her ribs," Farron said, but they still returned Cora's awkward smile from over their mom's shoulder.

"I've been waiting so long to meet you!" At last, their mom stepped back, but her warm hands remained on Cora's shoulders. "I didn't even introduce myself! You can call me Auntie June."

Cora smiled as wide as she could without the expression seeming forced. "Nice to meet you."

Farron had warned her that their mom was affectionate, but Cora supposed she hadn't completely believed it until she experienced it first hand. Even after Farron ushered the woman away, promising her there would be plenty of time to talk with Cora throughout the night, Cora could still feel her gentle touch lingering on her shoulders. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time, but Cora wasn't sure if she was comparing the sensation to her memories or imagination.

"At least let me introduce everyone first," Farron said once they made sure their mom, and her knife, would stay a safe distance away. "Anyway, that's Mom, and that's Dad."

A smaller man by the stove smiled and waved, his wide, wire-rimmed glasses taking up half of his face, and his thick, short hair a dark gray with white speckles. Beside him, each of the four burners had something cooking on top. One of his hands gripped a wok handle, and as soon as he finished his greeting, his other returned to the wooden spatula resting inside.

"You can call him Uncle David," Auntie June said, waving a hand at her husband. "He's shy, though. That's what I'm for, to do all the talking."

The younger woman at the kitchen island sighed. "We've heard—literally."

Farron smirked. "And that's the baby of the family, Waverly."

"Three words." Waverly held up the appropriate amount of fingers, deadpan. "Joy, luck, club."

Cora nodded at the familiar title. "Ah."

Their mom huffed. "It's a powerful book!"

"You read five chapters, ended up watching the movie, then decided to indirectly name me after a street."

"I'm not done!" Farron exclaimed, then waited a few seconds even after the bickering subsided. "Everyone, this is Cora." Farron glanced at Cora, wrapping an arm around her waist with a wide smile, before turning back to their family. "My girlfriend."

The resulting commotion was even louder than before. Their mom's cheering and chattering with Brandon was easily the loudest, followed by Waverly's unenthusiastic slow clap. Even their dad joined in on the celebration, drumming on the wok with his spatula as he danced in place.

Farron beamed at Cora, holding her close. "See? They love you already."

While Cora managed to smile with relief, she couldn't keep an inkling of concern from growing in her mind: what if they only liked her because they didn't know her yet? What if they would also lose interest in her once they learned more?

Cora took a shaky breath. She couldn't afford to be distracted by dwelling on it. She couldn't change her past, nor could she hide from it. All she could do was show that she had changed, that she was worthy of their eldest child's affection.

And Cora was determined to not let any of them down.