The heavy weight of the ceramic plates made Clara's arms tremble violently.
Hot red soup sloshed dangerously close to her pale delicate skin.
The wealthy relatives sat around the table sipping expensive white wine.
A few of the cousins giggled quietly behind their cloth napkins.
Clara: Brenda, please take these, my back is hurting so much.
Brenda: Stop being so dramatic in front of our distinguished guests!
Clara: I really cannot stand here like this much longer!
Brenda: My brother already provides for you, so you can work!
Clara: Please, I am carrying your baby nephew right now!
Brenda: You are just pregnant, not disabled, so stop complaining!
Brenda grabbed two more dirty dishes and piled them higher.
Clara let out a small sob as tears streamed down her cheeks.
She tried her best to balance the towering heavy burden.
The humiliation felt far worse than the terrible physical ache.
Across the grand hallway the study door suddenly slammed open.
Mark finished his business discussion and walked back toward the dining room.
He froze near the white double doors when he heard weeping.
He saw his wife standing trembling under a mountain of plates.
He saw his sister laughing while adding more weight to her hands.
A wave of pure fury rushed through Mark's whole body.
His fists clenched tight as his face turned dark with anger.
He took massive quick strides across the polished marble floor.
His loud footsteps echoed against the towering high ceilings.
The room went completely silent as Mark approached the table.