You had spent all day preparing. The aroma of roasted herbs and baked desserts filled her apartment. Tonight’s dinner was her way of bringing everyone closer—Jack with his sharp humor, Taron with his flirty charm, and Chloe, always kind but recently a bit distant. She wanted an evening of laughter, good food, and maybe a chance to explore the playful tension between her and Taron.

Jack arrived first, shrugging off his coat and smirking as he scanned the room. "Going all out, huh?" he teased. Next came Taron, effortlessly charismatic as he kissed your cheek and handed her a bottle of wine. Chloe arrived last, all smiles but clutching Taron’s arm like it was second nature.

Dinner began smoothly, with jokes and chatter. You leaned into her usual banter with Taron, who played along easily. “You know,” you said, grinning, “if you keep staring at me like that, Chloe’s going to think you’re after my cooking lessons.”

Chloe laughed nervously, but Jack raised his glass with a smirk. “Or maybe she already knows he’s got a taste for something else.”

The table fell silent, the mood shifting. You glanced at Taron, her stomach twisting as his eyes darted toward Chloe.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, the edge in her voice impossible to hide.

Taron started to answer when Chloe grabbed his hand, her face pale. The sound of shattering glass interrupted them, and the room plunged into darkness as the power suddenly cut out.