Chapter 6 - Clearing the Table
The moment dinner concluded, Patricia stood up and clapped her hands together lightly. "Well, that was lovely," she announced to the room. "Emily, dear, be a good girl and clear the table. The men want to get into the family room before the baseball game starts."
Without a word of protest, Emily began stacking the heavy ceramic plates. Ryan and his father stood up and walked away, completely ignoring the massive mess left behind. My blood boiled, but I knew I had to bide my time. I immediately stood up and grabbed a stack of dishes. "I'll help you, sweetheart," I said, ignoring Patricia's disapproving glare.
I followed Emily back into the kitchen, deliberately staying by her side. I grabbed a dish towel and began drying plates that didn’t even need drying, desperate to create an opening for us to speak. But the house was entirely too quiet, and the walls felt dangerously thin. Emily remained completely mute, her eyes focused solely on the soapy water in the sink.
May you like
We worked in silence for what felt like an eternity, the tension stretching tight between us. Finally, after twenty agonizing minutes, the shrill ring of the landline echoed from the hallway. We heard Patricia’s sharp voice answer it, followed by the sound of her heavy footsteps retreating up the carpeted stairs to take the call in private.
The moment the upstairs door clicked shut, the oppressive atmosphere in the kitchen shifted. Emily dropped the sponge into the sink and gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white. She let out a long, ragged breath, and when she finally turned to look at me, the dam broke. The truth came spilling out in pieces, jagged, rushed, and utterly devastating.
