The dining room was bright and cold. The long table was set. Silverware lined up like little fences. A maid stood by the wall with her hands folded. I took the empty chair far from the head of the table and sat down without a sound.
Father ate without looking at me. Derrick sat to his right. Daisy sat to his left. Amanda watched everyone's faces the way she always did, ready to smooth the next thing before it became a scene.
No one spoke for a while. Plates clicked. Glasses touched cloth. The soup tasted like nothing.
Then I saw it. A thin chain on Daisy's wrist. Small stones. Blue and purple. The light caught them and threw back a quiet shine. I knew those stones. I knew that clasp. It was my mother's bracelet. It had been hers since before I was born. She wore it on the last birthday
