Violent Outrage

As he watched the happy scene before him, veins popped up on the side of Bella's father's neck, his frustration building and building, swelling inside him like a volcano about to erupt.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse.

His eyes landed on the stacked jars in the corner of the room.

He blinked.

There were so many of them—lined up neatly, labels printed far too professionally to be some kind of casual kitchen hobby.

Something about them looked off, like they didn't belong there, like they were important in a way he didn't understand yet.

And then—it clicked.

A bad feeling crawled up his spine as his lips parted slightly, his breath catching.

And before he even realized what he was doing, he cut through the conversation.

"What are those?"

The lively atmosphere at the table instantly shifted.

The laughter halted. The conversation froze.