Her gaze darts to the plate, then back to me.
She doesn't move.
I pull out the chair for her and nod.
"Please. Leni."
She hesitates, her fingers playing with the ends of her sleeves.
Then, finally, she walks toward the table, her steps cautious and slow.
She sits, and I sit across from her, setting my own plate down and picking up my fork.
"We don't have to talk. We can just sit and eat."
She stares at the plate in front of her for a long moment, then picks up her fork. It's her, but her movements are all different.
She cuts the eggs into small, even pieces, then spears one with her fork and brings it to her mouth. She chews slowly like she's counting her bites.
Her back is straight, her shoulders pulled back, her posture rigid, like she was trained to sit this way.
I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable, so I look away, focusing on my own plate.
I finish my eggs quickly, shoveling the food into my mouth without tasting it because I don't know what to do, and keeping food in my mouth will keep me from letting every question I have come flowing out.
When I look up, she's still eating, her movements unchanged.
Then she sets her fork down gently and looks at the center of the table, not at me.
"Would it be all right if I drank water?"
Her voice is soft, hesitant, and she's already starting to stand.
I'm on my feet before she can take another step.
"Of course."
I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it at the sink, then set it down beside her plate.
She stares at the glass like it's a test.
"And you don't have to ask for permission on things. Just tell me what you need and I'll get it. Just like I always have, my angel.”
Her eyes lift to mine, and for a split second, something flickers in them, but whatever it is goes just as fast as it came.
She picks up the glass and drinks. When she's done, she sets the cup down and her gaze drops back to her plate.
She then turns her head slightly, noticing mine is empty.
"You're finished," she says and stands abruptly, reaching for my plate.
"Let me take your dish."
"No," I say, and she freezes, her hand hovering over the plate.
I clear my throat. "Don't worry about me. Eat."
She hesitates, her fingers trembling slightly, and then she gives me the smallest nod and lowers herself back into the chair.