Athena couldn't shake the feeling that Margaret had been crying for the past four days.
The croaky quality of the latter's voice was unmistakable, reminiscent of a frog's croak, and her words came out almost in whispers, as if they were fragile and could shatter at any moment.
"Margaret, how are you doing?" Old Mr. Thorne asked, embodying the gentleman he had always been, his concern shining through despite the gravity of their impending conversation.
"I'm fine, thank you," Margaret replied, her voice trembling slightly. "I heard you're keeping my family until the shareholders' meeting…" There was a pause laden with tension. "Are they still alive?"
Athena sighed, reclining deeper into the plush sofa, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on her chest.
