The day after the tea party, the breakfast table was shrouded in an unusually heavy silence. Olivia, her face still pinched with humiliation from the previous day, knew better than to offer any snide remarks to me or Luther. Cora and Amanda also maintained a wide, cautious distance, clearly worried that my "poisonous tongue" might turn on them next. I guessed my tactical verbal assault had beaten them into silent submission, at least temporarily.
Feeling the palpable tension among the ladies, no one dared to speak. Throughout the breakfast, there was an almost comical pin-drop silence.
Grandma and Grandpa were also present, and seeing the quiet formality during the meal, they were actually quite pleased, even though they undoubtedly sensed the underlying discomfort. They preferred peace
