Chapter 6 - Realigning the Table
Mr. Voss stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. He ignored Maribel completely and walked around the table, approaching the corner near the kitchen door where I had been seated for most of my life.
He stopped beside me and extended his hand.
The gesture was profound. In Mr. Voss's world, you didn't extend your hand to the hired help or the lowly clerks. You extended it to equals. You extended it to power.
"Ms. Whitaker," he said, his voice ringing with genuine respect. "It is a profound honor to meet you. Truly."
I looked at his hand for a moment before taking it. His grip was firm. "Thank you, Mr. Voss. Please, call me Rowan."
May you like
Aurelia’s fiancé immediately stood up as well, rushing to echo his father’s sentiments. The social gravity of the room had completely shifted. I was no longer the outcast by the kitchen door; I was the center of gravity, and they were all realigning their orbits around me.
Aurelia looked at her mother, then at me, her eyes filled with a complicated mix of awe, shame, and sudden, desperate respect.
