Callum leans close, and his proximity makes my head feel woozy, though I’m almost as aware of Rafe, whose gaze is fixed on me across the table. “Carrots—your favorite,” Callum says. “You remember?” “Of course. Hard to forget the time your mum forced you to eat them and they came back up.” Not helping my upset stomach. I set down my bread. “Lovely topic for dinner conversation,” Rafe says, and he must have bat hearing, because Callum was practically whispering in my ear. “I don’t think we were including you in it,” Callum says, and his mother frowns.
