“What?”
Ruth picked up her napkin and folded it.
“I believe this dinner is finished.”
Marcus said, “Mom—”
“No.”
He stopped.
Ruth rose carefully.
Her knees ached.
That irritated her more than she expected.
She hated feeling physically fragile while everyone watched.
Calvin moved automatically toward her chair, but Ruth shook her head.
“I’ve got it.”
He nodded.
Ruth looked at Marcus.
“You and Amber may join me in the office.”
Amber crossed her arms.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Ruth met her eyes.
“Then go home.”
Amber stared at her.
“But you will not remain in my dining room after treating me that way.”
The words were not loud.
They did not need to be.
Amber’s cheeks darkened.
Marcus whispered, “Amber. Come on.”
Ruth turned toward the hallway.
Guests made space for her.
Some avoided her eyes.
A few touched her arm.
One older woman said, “Ruth, are you all right?”
Ruth nodded.
“I will be.”
She kept walking.
The office was behind the kitchen.
Small.
Practical.
Not designed to impress anyone.
A metal filing cabinet occupied one wall.
Three framed photographs hung over the desk.
In the first, Ruth was twenty-nine and standing beside her late husband, Isaiah, beneath a faded sign that read COLLINS FAMILY DINER.
