The dining hall of the Lin estate was a place where silence usually carried more weight than words, a cavernous space framed by soaring arched ceilings and dark mahogany paneling that absorbed light rather than reflected it. At the center of the massive table, the clatter of silver against fine bone china had slowed to a near-halt, suffocated by an unspoken tension that hung thick in the air like dust before a storm.
"Let's not speak of the past, especially while we are eating," Jayden interjected, his voice cutting cleanly through the heavy air. "It is poor manners to chatter at the table, isn't that right, Dad?"
