20th, Sunday Normal Illinois  Silverware went click, clatter, clink, on a square table in a room rectangular room. An old, antique cuckoo clock ticked in the corner, next to the staircase. The wallpaper was dark, and if Kat looked behind her she knew she’d see a glass case filled with exotic china. The tiles that Kat’s feet just barely touched were floral. She bit her lip, straightened her blouse, grabbed at the hem of her skirt and squeezed.   Click. Her mother stared down at a slab of meat