The daughter, whose smile had been confident, faltered. The 'he-wants-to-see-her-now' uncertainty that was also the 'the-curtain-is-not-ready' hesitation. She trembled. The 'he-is-pushing' awareness that was also the 'I-am-not-in-control' discomfort.
She pulled a cord. The rope, which was connected to the curtain mechanism, was yanked. The fabric, the heavy velvet, parted. The stage, which had been hidden, was revealed.
The glass jar, the large and reinforced container, was at the center. The glass, thick and tempered, was not ordinary. The 'this-cost-a-fortune' glass that was also the 'it-cannot-be-broken' assurance.
