The dining room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. The table stretched long, dressed in crisp white linen and set with polished silverware that gleamed under the soft illumination. Crystal glasses caught the flickering flames, casting tiny rainbows across the tablecloth. The centerpiece was a rustic arrangement of fresh rosemary and white roses, their fragrance mingling with the rich aroma of the feast.
Anthony sat at the head of the table, his wife Michelina at the opposite end. Between them, the seats were filled with family and guests. Rachael, the eldest daughter at twenty-three, sat to her mother's left. Rebecca, sixteen, was beside her, already sneaking a bread roll before the meal officially began. Anthony Jnr., seven years old, was next to Jasmine, the two of them already engaged in a hushed conversation about action figures.
