Lily's POV

  Dinner had never been this lively before. It wasn't like we never had guests, but tonight, the atmosphere felt... fuller. My sisters were in their element, talking over each other, giggling, and soaking up every word Woody had to say. Even Mom looked entertained, which was rare when it came to the men my sisters brought home.

  I sat at the far end of the table, quietly watching the scene unfold. Woody handled the conversation easily, answering their questions like he'd known our family forever. Madison beamed beside him, her eyes shining in a way I hadn't seen in a long time. It was obvious she was happy.

  And I was happy for her.

  At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

  "So, Woody, what exactly do you do?" Beatrice asked, twirling a strand of her perfectly curled hair.

  "I work in real estate with my father, and he also owns Ophelia," Woody replied smoothly. "Mostly investments and property management."

  "Wait, so like the beauty company Ophelia. So, you're rich-rich," Kristy teased, her lips curling into a playful smirk.

  Woody chuckled. "I guess you could say I'm comfortable."

  "Comfortable," Katherine echoed, raising a brow. "That's code for rich."

  "Not necessarily," Woody said. "Real estate is unpredictable. One bad deal and all that 'riches' talk disappears. Sometimes, high competition also affects the beauty industry. "

  Dad, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, finally spoke up. "And you think you can balance that with a serious relationship?"

  Madison groaned. "Dad."

  But Woody just smiled. "I get it," he said, nodding at him. "It's a fair question. And the answer is yes. Madison isn't just something I fit into my schedule—she's important to me. I wouldn't be here if I didn't mean that."

  A collective aww came from my sisters. Even Mom looked a little impressed.

  I kept my eyes on my plate, pushing my mashed potatoes around with my fork.

  "So, Lily," Woody said casually, turning his attention to me. "I feel like I haven't heard much from you tonight. What do you do?"

  I wasn't expecting to be addressed so directly, especially by him. For a second, I just blinked, feeling the weight of everyone's attention shift my way.

  "Uh... what do you mean?" I asked, my voice coming out quieter than I intended.

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  Woody's lips twitched, like he was holding back a smile. "Your sisters have been telling me all about themselves. I figured I should get to know you, too."

  Oh. That made sense. I could feel Madison watching me, probably hoping I wouldn't say anything weird.

  I cleared my throat. "I read... a lot, and I paint... kinda."

  "A reader?" Woody said, his tone warm, like that was actually interesting. "What kind of books?"

  "Mostly classics," I said, my fingers tightening around my fork. "But I read other stuff too."

  "Nice," he said, nodding. "Ever read The Picture of Dorian Grey?"

  That made me glance up. "Yeah. I like it."

  His smile widened a little, but it wasn't mocking—it was just easy. "Figured you might. Well, I hope we get along."

  I wasn't sure what to do with that, so I just went back to poking at my food, hoping the attention would shift away from me soon.

  But Woody didn't push. He didn't try to pry or make me uncomfortable. He just gave me a knowing look, like he understood something I didn't, then went back to his meal.

  And yet, I still felt the conversation linger in the air long after it ended.

  Mom immediately shifted the conversation to her direction, asking about the stores and companies his father owned. He just kept the conversation all smooth. Dang. Maddy does deserve someone nice.

  I can see it in Woody.

  But there was also something else.

  Jealousy.

  It's not the petty kind. Not the "I want what you have" kind. More like the please don't forget about me kind.

  Madison had always been my person. No matter how busy life got, no matter how many responsibilities she carried as the eldest, she always had time for me. And now, someone else had that part of her.

  It wasn't a bad thing. It was just... new. And new things were hard to adjust to.

  After dinner, my sisters moved to the living room, still caught up in conversation. I slipped outside onto the porch, needing some air.

  The night was quiet, the cool breeze wrapping around me as I leaned against the railing. I took a deep breath, staring out at the darkened street.

  "Lily."

  I turned at the sound of my name. Woody stood in the doorway, his sleeves rolled up, hands casually in his pockets.

  "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

  I shrugged. "It's a free country."

  He stepped beside me, resting his arms on the railing. For a moment, we stood in silence, the muffled laughter from inside spilling out through the open window.

  "You're different from your sisters," he said.

  I let out a small laugh. "Yeah. I get that a lot."

  He tilted his head slightly. "It's not a bad thing."

  I glanced at him, trying to figure out what he meant by that. But before I could say anything, he pushed off the railing.

  "I should probably head back inside before Madison starts thinking I ran away," he said.

  I nodded, expecting him to leave, but he paused.

  "You know if you need any books, I can hook you up." he said, meeting my eyes, "My family owns all the private libraries. You can just reach me through your sister."

  "Oh yeah, sure. Thank you. " I gave a genuine smile. I really did like books and he was nice, so why not.

  "Okay then, see you." And just like that, he was gone.

  I stayed out for a bit, basking in the glow of the moonlight before i eventually slipped away to my room before anyone noticed. As I shut the door behind me, the familiar silence wrapped around me like a second skin.

  Tomorrow was Monday.

  The first day of school.

  And no one knew how much I hated it.

  No one knew about the whispers in the hallways, the not-so-accidental beatings in the the way girls' bathroom. My name twisted into something cruel on other people's tongues.

  No one knew, though, or perhaps noticed. I didn't mind. At least I have Camila.

  I let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling as my thoughts blurred together. Maybe tomorrow would be different.

  Maybe.

  But I doubted it.