Chapter 11
The family dinner chat contained the proof of how far Agatha’s thinking had spread.
She had posted photographs of Maren washing dishes.
Not many.
Enough.
One caption:
THE NEW GENERATION LEARNS HUMILITY.
Another:
SOME WOMEN NEED TO EARN THEIR PLACE TWICE.
Reactions followed.
Laughing faces.
Approval.
One relative wrote:
Ronan would never allow this.
Agatha replied:
Ronan will understand when he is older.
I read that twice.
I was twenty-nine.
Head of the organization.
Father of one child with another coming.
Yet in my mother’s mind, I remained a boy temporarily confused by his wife.
That was almost funny.
Then I saw Sienna in the corner of one photograph carrying plates.
My laughter disappeared.
“You put my daughter to work too.”
Agatha shrugged.
“She wanted to help.”
Sienna’s hands were trembling in the picture.
She did not look helpful.
She looked afraid.
I summoned every relative who had reacted.
Not for punishment first.
For explanation.
The answers were predictable.
“We thought Maren agreed.”
“Agatha said it was tradition.”
“We didn’t want to interfere.”
One man said:
“It looked harmless.”
I stared at him.
“Because you weren’t the one carrying the plates.”
May you like
He lowered his eyes.
Cruelty becomes entertainment fastest when the audience does not have to feel its weight.
