“Would you like some more food, sweetheart?” Asks my grandmother with an encouraging smile.
“If I eat anymore, I’m going to be sick,” I groan, rubbing my engorged stomach.
“Don’t be ridiculous. A growing woman like you who is still healing needs lots of food. You need your energy,” she coaxes me while scooping more food onto my plate.
“For heaven’s sake Viridis, stop force-feeding the poor girl, she’s clearly full,” says my grandfather in exasperation. I mouth a ‘thank you’ to him while my grandmother glares in his direction.
“Mamma, I think she’s had enough,” adds my mother, while my father sips his drink to stay out of the conversation.
“I’m just trying to take care of my granddaughter. Look at her, she’s skin and bones and healing from near-fatal wounds,” grandmother protests, flop
