Chapter 20
Kyrie's POV
The tension at lunch was thick enough to cut with a knife. The dining room, as grand as the rest of the packhouse, was filled with an uncomfortable silence, and every clink of silverware against china seemed to echo louder than it should. The table was set with what seemed like an endless spread of dishes: platters of roast meats seasoned to perfection, bright, fresh salads, and thick slices of bread baked to a golden brown. Everything looked as if it had been made for a royal feast, not a simple lunch. The servers, dressed crisply in black and white, moved around us with practiced precision, refilling glasses and clearing plates as if we weren’t sitting in palpable silence.
Across from me, Cal’s mother, Sylvia, watched me closely, her gaze calculating, her expres
