Chapter 6 - The Unwashed Plates
Michael slowly rose from the floor, his white shirt wrinkled at the waist where his mother had pushed him.
He took one step toward Chloe, his hands extending with open palms.
"Chloe, let me explain..."
Chloe took one step backward, her blue shirt rustling against the frame of the dining room door.
She reached behind her neck, her fingers catching the tiny clasp of her gold necklace—the one Michael had given her for their fifth anniversary.
With a smooth, unhurried motion, she unlatched it.
She didn't throw it.
She laid the gold chain gently on the edge of the table, right next to the gravy boat and the dark red wine stain.
"Lily, Maya," Chloe said, her voice dropping back into its quiet, steady rhythm.
"Get your coats."
Maya instantly slid out of her chair, grabbing Lily by the hand and pulling her toward the hallway.
Neither girl looked at the roasted turkey. Neither girl looked at their grandmother.
Evelyn sat on the floor, her maroon dress pooling around her like old blood, her mouth opening and closing without sound.
Michael reached out, his thumb catching the edge of Chloe’s sleeve as she passed him.
"Chloe, please."
Chloe stopped and looked down at his thumb on her fabric.
"Don't touch the blue shirt, Michael," she said softly. "It's clean."
May you like
She pulled her arm away, her shoes stepping quietly across the hardwood floor toward the front entrance.
Behind her, the heavy mahogany doors clicked shut, leaving the roasted turkey to go cold beneath the bright, unblinking lights of the chandelier.
