The Missing Ring, Silent Tensions

Eleanor Thorne surveyed the dining table with a critical eye. Despite her best efforts, the atmosphere remained heavy with unspoken tension. She frowned as Elara quietly pushed food around her plate, barely eating.

"Elara, dear, you've hardly touched your salmon. Is something wrong with it?" Eleanor asked.

Elara looked up, her expression carefully composed. "It's delicious, Eleanor. I'm just not very hungry tonight."

"You need to eat more," Eleanor insisted. "You're getting too thin."

Damien, seated at the opposite end of the table, didn't even glance up from his phone. His fingers moved rapidly across the screen, completely disconnected from the dinner conversation.

Eleanor cleared her throat pointedly. "Damien, no phones at the dinner table. That's been the rule since you were a boy."

Damien looked up reluctantly. "Sorry, Grandma. Business emergency." He set the phone down beside his plate but kept stealing glances at it.