They were white with a thin gold line around the rim.

The bottom plate had a chip on the underside, hidden unless you turned it over.

Sophia watched from the hall with one eye around the doorframe.

“Bear says the plates are too fancy,” she whispered.

“Bear has a point,” I said.

Elisa laughed, a real laugh, short and surprised.

Then she caught herself and smoothed her hair.

“Go wash up,” she said to Sophia.