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For as long as she had known, supper was a challenge within itself.
Livia was expected to be on time- six on the dot- and find her seat at the long mahogany table. She would sit with the quintessential posture on the finely polished furniture and greet her brother formally from across the table.
Nothing more than a "hello" or a "how are you today?''
Once her parents entered the room, dressed in their idea of casual wear, and sat at their ends of the long table, only then could she eat.
And she was expected to finish her entire plate, never asking for seconds.
Livia couldn't risk being too thin or too big for her mother, no, she must always be perfect.
⇒ a message from spades!
⇒ emotional pain? nooo, I would never encourage such a thing...
