The evening was settling in, and the heavy silence of the house seemed almost oppressive. Mr. Qin sat alone at the dining table, his posture rigid as he waited for Stacy to appear.
The large room, typically filled with the soft sounds of conversation and clinking silverware, now felt cold and empty.
The plates before him were heaped with steaming food, carefully prepared to Stacy's tastes, the rich aromas of roasted meats and freshly steamed vegetables hanging in the air.
Mrs. Chen had made sure that every dish was to perfection, but there was a heaviness in the air that even the food couldn't lift.
Mrs. Chen hovered near the doorway, her face marked with concern. She knew Stacy well enough to understand that the young woman was likely avoiding dinner after the tension that had unfolded earlier between her and Mr. Qin.
