Chapter 3: The Missing Mother
The emotional temperature in the hall continued to rise, though both sides maintained an eerie, conversational facade of calm. Milli dropped the card back onto the polished mahogany table with a sharp click that punctuated her frustration. She swept her gaze across the table settings, noting the precise placement of every fork, knife, and glass, searching for the one name that mattered most to her right now. Her mother’s name was absent from the VIP section, replaced by a stranger who had only entered their lives after the tragedy. The realization hit Milli with the force of a physical blow. Her father was systematically rewriting their family history, sliding Elena into the spaces that belonged to the woman who had built this family from the ground up. Arthur cleared his throat, shifting his weight again as if uncomfortable under the unblinking scrutiny of his daughter. He reached for his wine glass, swirling the dark liquid inside without taking a sip, buying time.
"Where is mom's card, dad?" Milli asked, stepping right up to the edge of the table. Her voice was steady, infused with a righteous indignation that demanded an answer. "She's gone. My family gets that table now."
The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Arthur paused, his hand freezing on the stem of the glass. He looked up at Milli, and for a fleeting second, a crack appeared in his stoic facade, revealing a deep well of exhaustion and unresolved grief. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a stubborn, defensive mask. "This isn't about your mother, Milli," Arthur replied, his voice strained. "This is about how we organize the room to keep the peace."
"Keep the peace for whom?" Milli demanded, her eyes flashing with anger. "You put Elena at the head table and pushed my living family to the back, all while using a dead woman's memory as a prop for your new life. It’s disgusting, dad. Fix it right now."
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Elena uncrossed her arms, leaning forward with a tight, patronizing smile that made Milli’s blood boil. "Your father is just trying to honor the past while managing the present, Milli. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment on a day that is supposed to be about joy."
Milli turned her glare onto Elena, refusing to let her hijack the narrative. The tension reached a boiling point, the restrained anger of the past three years finally finding a voice in the brightly lit, empty banquet hall.
