Richard sat at the head of the long, polished mahogany dining table, cutting into his steak with his lisp pressed into a tight thin line.
Across from him, Samantha toyed with her food, her fork scraping lightly against her plate; the coldness oozing from her husband's body made her lose her appetite the moment he entered the room.
The atmosphere was thick with tension, the kind that had settled into their home over the weeks like dust on unused furniture.
Tina, the housekeeper, stood quietly behind Samantha's chair, her posture rigid and attentive. She was always there during meals, overseeing the service with an eagle eye.
Richard finally glanced up from his plate just in time to see a young maid approaching with a bottle of wine. He couldn't recall seeing her before.
