Eden raised both hands, letting out a light laugh as if Thaddeus's question had been nothing more than a joke. “Whoa, relax, bro. I was just guessing. You give Yilna lingerie every year. Everyone here knows that.” “Yes, Thad. Eden only guessed because that’s what you usually give me on my birthday,” Yilna said, trying to make sure no one became suspicious of her. “My wife, I also have—” Thad was about to say that he had another gift for her tonight, but one of the uncles cut him off. “Yes absolutely right,” Uncle Gerald chimed in with a chuckle. “Every year on Yilna’s birthday, or even on their anniversary, it’s always the same thing. Lingerie. Never change it up.” “Because Thad is just a perverted husband who can only think about that for his wife,” Shein added with a giggle, followed by laughter from the others. “Yeah, exactly,” one of the aunts said, nodding repeatedly. “Six years of marriage, and it’s always the same kind of gift. He never gives her anything more class

The atmosphere grew even more heated. Several relatives began muttering insults, saying Thaddeus was only trying to get attention, that he was shameless, and that he always chose the worst possible moments to cause trouble. Thaddeus fell silent for a moment. He knew that if he insisted now, they would never believe him. They would only hate him even more. He took a deep breath and then said quietly, “Fine. I won't force you. But at least let me keep him in a position that will keep his airway open until the ambulance arrives.” They still looked at him suspiciously, but eventually gave reluctant nods because they had no other choice. Thaddeus turned his attention back to Gerald. His fingers remained steady against Gerald's jaw and neck. The ambulance still hadn't arrived. The atmosphere in the dining room became even more chaotic. Some relatives were scrambling to find the correct emergency number, while others stood around Gerald's limp body on the floor. Eden crouc

The ambulance siren grew louder until it finally stopped right in front of the house. Two paramedics rushed inside carrying a stretcher and medical equipment. They immediately knelt beside Gerald. After checking his airway and pulse, one of the paramedics nodded. “The blockage has loosened somewhat. The patient is more stable than we usually see in cases of choking this severe. His breathing never stopped completely. That’s a good thing.” The second paramedic turned toward the family while putting away the equipment. “Who gave him that warm herbal drink earlier? The timing was quite helpful.” The atmosphere immediately grew tense. Several relatives exchanged glances. "I was the one who did it,” Thaddeus said. “Glad I could help.” “Whoa, good job, sir,” the paramedic said. "It was just a coincidence. Don’t try to connect it to that strange drink him made," said Noura. The paramedics simply nodded politely, unwilling to get involved. They quickly transferred Gerald onto

Aunt Clara stared at him. Her expression was a mixture of shock, irritation, and something she still could not bring herself to admit. “You... have dark magic, and you're a shaman?” she asked quietly. Thaddeus shook his head. “No, Aunt. This isn't dark magic. It's just a healing dish, an ancient medicinal recipe I learned from my mentor." “Oh, Thad. You actually believe in things like that? Man, it's 2026,” Shein said. The others immediately agreed with him. Shein tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. “It could still be a coincidence. Maybe it just happened to be the right time for it to subside.” “Yeah,” Noura quickly agreed. “Don't immediately assume it's because of his cooking. We're not the kind of people who easily believe in ancient practices like that.” “Exactly. It's 2026. Everything should be modern by now. We shouldn't believe in superstitious nonsense like that.” “And remember, Thaddeus isn't exactly well-educated, so of course he'd believe in shamans,” ano

The next morning, the sky was still a silvery gray when Thaddeus dropped his two children off at daycare. The place was only two blocks from Maison Restaurant, where he worked. Leaving the children there while he was on the job had become his routine. His mother-in-law and sister-in-law refused to look after them, and Yilna wouldn’t hire a nanny, insisting that Thaddeus had to keep expenses down. After the children went inside and the daycare door closed, he stood for a moment on the sidewalk. He took a deep breath. The house mortgage payment of fifteen hundred dollars was due tomorrow. The annual bonus he should have received the previous month—three thousand dollars—was still being withheld. That was the only hope he had left. He walked toward Maison Restaurant. The kitchen was already bustling when he entered through the back door. The smell of frying onions, the sound of knives on cutting boards, and the hiss of lit stoves greeted him. A few coworkers offered brief he