Lily walked in the hallway leading to the dining room with slow steps.
She felt her body temperature rising slightly, and small drops of sweat appeared on her forehead.
The reason was not the heat of the place, but rather the anxiety that took control of her after Adam suddenly closed his phone, leaving her in a state of confusion and tension.
She tried to regain her composure before entering, but she knew that her late entry into the dining room would make her face her father’s gaze.
She approached the table, and when she appeared before the door, she raised her eyes unintentionally and saw Mr.
Antoine looking at her.
She froze for a moment, and felt that her steps had become heavier, as if the short distance between the door and the chair had become very long.
Her heartbeats increased, and tension began to show on her more, until she felt that her breathing had become irregular.
Lily was afraid of her father in a way that made her lose her ability to act in front of him.
She was not only afraid of his anger, but of his strong presence and his cold look that made her feel as if she were watched in every move she made.
For years, she was accustomed to seeing Mr.
Antoine as a man who did not raise his voice much, but he did not need to; his harsh calm and decisive tone were enough to make her feel fear.
Lily was never able to look into his eyes.
She always lowered her eyes quickly when their glances met, as if she feared he would read in her face all her feelings and all her small mistakes.
In front of him, she felt smaller than she was, losing her self-confidence and becoming cautious of every breath and every movement.
She always tried to be perfect, not to give him a reason for annoyance, and for her moments beside him to pass without attracting his attention.
In Mr.
Antoine’s presence, she felt that silence itself carried great pressure.
She did not need many words to know that he was unsatisfied, and a single look from him was enough to make anxiety take control of her.
Therefore, she remained standing for moments trying to gather her courage, then advanced toward the table without raising her head.
Lily sat on the chair beside her mother, Madame Margaret, and kept her eyes lowered toward the food plate before her.
She looked at no one, and did not touch the food, and her body remained tense as if she were waiting for a moment that might come at any time.
She felt the weight of silence around the table, and the presence of her harsh father in front of her, while she was only trying to stay calm and for her fear not to show.
Lily raised the spoon with a trembling hand, her fingers barely steady around the small handle, then inserted it slowly into the rice plate before her.
She felt that every movement she made was clear to everyone, as if the sound of the spoon touching the plate was louder than usual.
She took a small bite, and tried to eat quietly, but she felt the trembling of her hand as she raised the food to her mouth.
Her eyes were fixed on the plate, refusing to move in any other direction.
She did not want her gaze to meet Mr.
Antoine’s gaze, but she felt the presence of his eyes upon her, watching every small detail.
Sweat began to show more on her forehead, and she felt heat flowing through her face even though the room was quiet.
Lily tried to control her breathing, and to make her hand stop trembling, but she could not get rid of that heavy feeling that accompanied her father’s presence.
The silence around the table was increasing her tension, and every passing second was making her more aware of his glances and his presence.
“Do not look at him…
just eat quietly, do not let anyone notice your confusion.” She took another bite with difficulty, while her head remained lowered.
She was trying to appear natural, but her body was betraying her; a light tremble in her hand, interrupted breaths, and anxiety increasing with every moment.
Around the table, everyone began eating.
Madame Margaret was eating in silence, and Nicholas maintained his composure, but even they felt that invisible pressure that filled the place.
Mr.
Antoine did not need to speak, for his presence and silent gaze were enough to make dinner different from any other dinner.
Everyone sat cautiously, as if any uncalculated movement might attract his attention.
The soft sound of spoons, the movement of plates, and even quiet breathing became part of that heavy silence.
Everyone felt that Mr.
Antoine was watching, and that his eyes were imposing an order on the table that needed no commands.
As for Lily, she was the most tense among them.
She kept looking only at her plate, trying to finish the food without her eyes rising, and without the fear that filled her showing.
She felt that the entire dinner had become a long test, and that she had nothing but to sit in silence and wait for these moments to pass.
Lily began repeating inside her mind: “Adam…
Adam…
Adam”