“I won’t have children running through my hallway while dinner is being served.”

I stood in the hall for three seconds with my hands pressed flat against my thighs.

“I’ll put the sweet potatoes on the sideboard,” I said.

The dining table was set with white china plates, crystal water glasses, and heavy silver forks lined up on starched cloth napkins.

Caroline’s husband, Frank, sat on the far side by the window frame.

He was staring down at his empty plate, tapping his thumb against his glass.