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Chloe saw it and gasped. “Mark?”

“Enough,” Lila finally snapped, her voice cutting through the wailing. “This is Christmas . Can we please just… be happy for one hour?”

Serena, instead of snapping, squeezed back. “Thanks, Mom. You know… the yams are really good this year, Chloe.”

“Traffic was a trance-state nightmare,” Cora said, kissing the air near Lila’s cheek. Her voice was soft, a little too rhythmic, the kind of voice that made you realize you’d been holding your breath. Mistress Of Hypnosis Holidazed

“And now,” Cora murmured, the pendulum coming to a stop in her palm, “when I count down from three to one, you will all feel a deep, abiding sense of peace. The perfect, simple peace of a silent night. No arguments. No resentments. Just the quiet joy of being together. Three… two… one.”

Lila Joule sat at the head of the table, a string of real pearls resting against her cashmere turtleneck. She was the family’s unspoken matriarch of disaster, a woman who could weaponize a compliment about the roast beef. Her son, Mark, was already on his third scotch. His wife, Chloe, was trying to stop their toddler from launching a Brussels sprout into the crystal chandelier. And Mark’s sister, Serena, was glaring at her phone, freshly dumped and radiating bitter, peppermint-scented fury.

The annual Joule Family Christmas Eve dinner was a masterclass in performative joy. Silverware clinked against bone china like tiny, polite warning bells. Beneath the garlands of pine and the soft glow of beeswax candles, old resentments festered like uninvited guests. Chloe saw it and gasped

The chain swung. Back and forth. Tick. Tock. Like a gentle, hypnotic grandfather clock marking a time that didn’t exist.

Mark, who had been staring at the ceiling fan with a blissful, empty smile, obediently took a bite. “Wow,” he breathed. “It’s like… a yam from a dream.”

Cora leaned forward, setting her water glass down with a soft, deliberate clink . “Actually, Aunt Lila,” she said, her voice as smooth as the eggnog no one was drinking. “I think I can help with that.” Can we please just… be happy for one hour

For the first time in seventeen years, the Joule family had a wonderful, peaceful, genuinely happy Christmas Eve. They played charades without cheating. They complimented each other’s gifts. Mark only had one more scotch, and he sipped it thoughtfully, telling Chloe how much he appreciated her.

A wet, heavy silence fell. Leo hiccupped.

In the ensuing chaos, Cora simply sat back, swirling a glass of water. She watched them all with a small, serene smile. The family was a symphony of discordant notes, and she was the only one who could hear the silent, simple melody underneath.