Grandma Serina had always thought I was too soft, too tolerant, too willing to bend Darius. She used to tell me, “If you’d just been a little tougher, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”
But this is who I am. I’d already said I wouldn’t switch seats, and Serina didn’t push the matter again.
Dinner began shortly after. A low, guttural chorus rose before the meal—prayers for the war to end, for the peace to come. Then, as the food was served, they ate and talked together. The table was lively with chatter and laughter—but I stayed quiet, focusing solely on the food in front of me.
It had been over ten minutes since Darius sat down, and not one word passed between us. No glances, no small talk. I may as well have been the table centerpiece for all he noticed me.
No one seem
