Moving out

That morning, the family gathered around the polished dining table for breakfast as routine as ever. Each took their usual spots with the Butler and Chef close by. But between the clinking of silverware and the ongoing conversations, there was an unmistakable tension hovering over the heads of the table like a storm cloud.

The president's eyes were on the fancy tableware in front of him. He stayed quiet, not really talking to anyone and just nodding when someone tried to chat. Whenever he looked around, he made sure to avoid eye contact with his son. It was obvious he was trying to dodge the upcoming showdown he knew was on the horizon.

This is so uncomfortable.

Natalie poked at her food without really tasting it. Her plate was barely touched but even that much felt like a chore to chew and swallow. She finally gave up and set her fork down deciding she'd eaten enough to give herself an upset stomach already.