We grabbed the bags and headed up the steps. The moment we stepped inside, the smell hit—warm food, butter, herbs. The dining table was already packed: steaming bowls of pasta, roasted chicken glistening under the light, a salad that actually looked edible, and a few bottles of wine breathing beside the plates.
Jasmine and Tessa immediately went to greet Kim—cheek kisses, hugs, the usual cheerful noise that fills a quiet house fast.
I dropped the bags by the door.
"Let's eat first," Kim said. "We can deal with the luggage later."
"Yeah, I'm starving," Jasmine groaned. "Let me put the frozen stuff in the fridge first."
"I'll help," I said.
"I'll set the table," Kim added, glancing upstairs. "Tom! Get down here and greet our guests!"
A voice echoed from above. Tom leaned over the railing, phone pressed to his ear. "Welcome! I'm on with my mom—be down in a sec!"
