Chapter 6 - The Iron Wall
Margaret did not cower under her son’s furious gaze. Instead, she stepped back, lifting her chin with an arrogant defiance that made her silver necklace gleam under the warm lights. She crossed her arms tightly over her burgundy pleated dress, adopting a posture of absolute, unbending authority. She looked at Julian not as a mother looking at her son, but as a ruler addressing a rebellious subject. The emotional plea of her daughter-in-law meant nothing to her; to Margaret, weakness was a sin, and control was everything. The kitchen air grew dangerously cold, the warm ambient lighting suddenly feeling heavy and oppressive as the battle lines within the household were finally drawn in the open.
