The silence in the bedroom lingered for a few more moments. Raven stood near the bed.
The fact of having transmigrated wasn't the problem in itself.
But how was he going to react around the parents and the social circle of the former Raven Scrow?
That was what was troubling him.
Raven's gaze shifted to the mirror hanging on the left wall. The teenager with amber eyes and black hair stared back at him. A stranger in his own reflection. He was going to have to play the role of this stranger in front of people who knew him intimately.
Before he could delve deeper into that thought, a voice rang out.
"Raven! Dinner's ready!"
The voice sounded familiar to him. He recognized it immediately. It was the voice of his mother, Elise Scrow.
His gaze drifted to the clock mounted on the wall. A simple-framed wall clock. It was eight o'clock in the evening.
Immediately, he understood.
It was dinner time. The daily routine of the Scrow family.
He swallowed back all his questions.
"I'm coming right away!"
He looked down at his clothes. He was in pajamas.
He headed toward what must have been a wardrobe or a dresser to put on more presentable clothes.
Still with that feeling of strangeness, he opened the door and stepped out.
He walked to the dining room.
From there, he saw his mother.
Elise Scrow stood near the table, leaning over the tray she was setting. A beautiful young woman in her forties.
Looking tired.
She was serving the meal. Simple, frugal dishes, but arranged with care.
Seeing him arrive, his mother smiled at him.
Elise Scrow's smile transformed her tired face. Her features awakened, her eyes lit up with genuine warmth. This smile was directed at him, at her son Raven, and it contained all the accumulated affection of sixteen years of shared life.
"Sit down, Raven," she said simply.
To avoid arousing any suspicion, he stepped forward with a broad smile.
The decision was made in a split second. He remembered that the former Raven was quite jovial.
That displeased him a little.
"Let me help you, Mom."
He recalled that the former Raven often helped set the table. It was an established routine. He grabbed plates, silverware, and placed them in their usual spots.
After helping to serve, Raven took his seat.
He sat in his usual place.
As he settled in, his mother turned toward the hallway.
"Bella! Biggy! Dinner is served!"
Seated at the table, Raven saw his little sister come out.
Bella Scrow appeared in the doorway of the hallway. Fourteen years old. Raven's memories provided the information instantly.
She seemed to exude an aura of elegance.
She was about five foot seven. Her hair was black, a deep black that caught the ambient light. Her skin was a milky white. Her face was angelic, like those seen in artistic depictions. Her eyes were amber, that warm, golden amber that seemed to be a family trait.
She ran to the table.
Her step was quick, energetic, betraying the impatience of youth.
"Hi, big brother!"
The smile she gave him was warm, spontaneous, without any hidden agenda. The smile of a little sister happy to see her older sibling. She sat down in her place, on the other side of the table, and immediately turned to her mother.
"Mom, did you make my favorite dish? I smelled it from my room!"
As far as the protagonist could remember, the former host maintained a good relationship with this sister.
Raven's memories confirmed this information. Between Raven and Bella, there was a natural bond, an unwavering affection. They were close in age. They shared games, secrets, laughter. Their relationship was simple, bright, spared from the tensions that can sometimes exist between siblings.
A short while later, the older brother came out too.
Biggy Scrow appeared in the common area. He was identical to Raven, or rather, Raven was identical to him. The same features, the same face, the same bone structure. Two brothers whom nature had cast from the same mold, a few years apart.
He was in his twenties. He stood six foot five. A massive but well-proportioned silhouette that filled the space with his presence.
He came to the table and, without a word, ruffled Raven's hair.
The air between them was familiar. Biggy smiled briefly at Raven, a lopsided smile that resembled a silent wink, then went to sit in his place, at the other end of the table.
Elise, who had observed her children's arrival with that soft, tired gaze of a mother watching over her offspring, spoke up.
"Alright, let's wait for your father. He'll be here soon."
No sooner had she spoken than the father arrived from outside.
The apartment's front door opened with a characteristic sound, a slight creak that everyone recognized. A massive silhouette filled the doorway. The man who entered seemed to be returning from work. His clothes bore the marks of a long day of labor.
He closed the door behind him and walked toward the dining room. His gaze swept the room, registering the presence of his wife and children gathered around the table. An imperceptible loosening of his shoulders betrayed the relief of returning to his home after a workday.
After taking a moment to relieve himself, the father approached the table and took his usual seat, at the head of the table, facing his wife.
The Scrow family was now complete. Five people gathered around a modest table.
Dinner was about to begin. He would have to play his role. Eat. Talk. Smile. Be Raven.
He took a deep, discreet breath and prepared himself to face this new trial of his transmigration.