“Now you’ll never marry my son!” my mother-in-law laughed, setting my wedding dress on fire. I wiped my tears, smiled coldly, and said, “Enjoy destroying that dress, because the wedding was never the real trap.” Her face went completely pale when I made one quick phone call…

where the plates were kept.

We ate. We discussed the city’s infrastructure projects. We debated the merits of a new streaming documentary. We did not discuss ivory satin. We did not mention the scent of smoke.

As we cleared the plates, Margaret stood up. “May I have permission to articulate a realization?” she asked, looking at Jason for clearance.

Jason continue reading …