Then, just as quickly, her brightness returned. “Talk to you later! Bye, everyone!”
The screen went dark.
Almost on cue, Alfred stepped into the dining hall, carrying a plate stacked with freshly cooked pancakes, steam still curling into the air. Beside him followed a lady from the staff, balancing a serving tray with fluffy scrambled eggs and glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, their bright color catching the morning light.
Plates were set neatly across the table, cutlery clinking softly against porcelain as breakfast was served.
“Eat up, dear,” Dahlia said warmly, already reaching for her napkin. “We’ll be leaving soon.”
Conversation slowly resumed—small comments, passing remarks, the kind that tried to stitch normalcy back into the morning. Chairs shifted. Coffee was poured.
