It wasn't just Genevieve who had heard the commotion. Tristan had too. He was on a call with his father when the shouting erupted, and he hung up abruptly.
"Dad, I'll have to call you back," he said, voice sharp with urgency. "Someone's screaming in the kitchen."
He arrived to find Genevieve confronting Cassie, her tone higher and more impatient than she intended. "This is my son's house! Why are you preventing her from cooking?"
Tristan moved instinctively, positioning himself protectively in front of Cassie.
The weight of responsibility pressed on him, but he had grown since the last time he had been so assertive. Losing weight had not only strengthened his frame but made him seem taller, almost brushing the height of the woman he now defended.
"Grandma, please… don't ye
