Elodie's POV
I follow Leif's gaze briefly, noting the same quiet, unspoken tension I've noticed before whenever he's near her, though I don't comment on it, turning my attention instead toward the small, delicate plate the waiter's just set in front of me.
Around us, conversation settles into an easy rhythm up and down the table as everyone adjusts to the strange, elegant setting. Callie chatters happily as she studies her plate, alternating between asking Beckett earnest questions about the scallop ('Is it a fish? Does it have a shell? Where's the shell gone?') and offering unsolicited opinions on the folded napkin swans, which she's apparently decided need names.
‘Well, I can’t wait to try this,’ I murmur appreciatively, glancing at Leif, who is now looking down at his own plate, ‘how
