Ava sat stiffly at the edge of her chair, her hands resting tensely on her lap as her fingers rhythmically tapped against the fabric of her dress—a quiet yet revealing beat of her growing anxiety.
The grand dining room stretched out before her in elegant symmetry, its high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers that sparkled softly in the golden evening light.
The air was filled with the clinking of fine china and the gentle rustling of maids as they moved efficiently around the long mahogany table, placing dish after dish of exquisite delicacies—roasted duck glazed in honey, delicate pastries, jeweled fruits, and steaming bowls of soup that filled the room with an intoxicating aroma.
Yet for all the beauty and richness of the scene, Ava felt a storm quietly rising within her.
Her chest tightened with unease as she watched the table being set—an unease that she couldn't entirely explain. On the surface, everything was perfect.
