Stanley went quiet, nodding his words to her words. Agatha cut her steak into smaller pieces and took a bite of it. The chewy texture and aftertaste of blood were not her preference. Food still seemed like her sworn enemy.
***
"Mother, why can't I have meat and fish like my brothers? Why do you ask the maids to only serve me blanched vegetables?" Young Agatha looked at her plate and asked the woman sitting beside her.
The woman, who was dressed in an elegant gown, cast a glare at her twelve-year-old daughter. Her face was sour by her question.
"What did I tell you about asking questions, Agatha?" Her mother scolded.
Agatha's shoulder slopped, as her eyes lowered onto the plate of peas. With a broken voice, she recited, "A man never likes a woman who asks questions."
