“I see.”
Kiana walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea.
Her hands were steady and calm, but inside everything was wound into a tight knot of anticipation.
So it begins, she thought. Right on schedule.
At work that day, Kiana tried to concentrate on the quarterly reports spread across her desk, but her thoughts kept scattering like startled birds.
She kept picturing opening the door that evening and seeing her mother-in-law standing there with that fake smile plastered on her face and that particular look in her eyes—greedy, calculating, assessing.
Ms. Sterling was remarkably skilled at playing the victim, portraying herself as a poor, lonely woman abandoned by everyone except her devoted son.
In reality, she had a perfectly decent Social Security check every month, a paid-off one-bedroom condo in a decent neighborhood downtown, and healthy legs that definitely didn’t require dragging Darius to her weekend place every single Saturday.
But Darius believed her performance—or at least pretended to believe it.
Kiana closed another file full of numbers and leaned back heavily in her office chair.
Outside the window, she could see gray rooftops, bare tree branches, and the dull color of old asphalt stretching into the distance.
A dull October day, one of thousands she’d lived through.
Only this day was special, different.
She felt it in every single cell of her body.
Kiana arrived home exactly at six o’clock, as she always did.
She climbed the four flights of stairs slowly, unlocked the door, and immediately heard voices coming from the kitchen.
Darius and his mother were already sitting at the small kitchen table, drinking tea from her good china cups.
A box of store-bought chocolate cream puffs sat on the table between them, sticky and sickeningly sweet.
“Oh, Kiki, come in, come in,” Ms. Sterling said, waving her hand as if she were inviting Kiana into her own home instead of the other way around.
“Darius and I are having some tea. Join us, dear.”
Kiana took off her jacket carefully, hung it on the hook by the door, and walked into the kitchen.
Her mother-in-law was dressed to the nines—a light silk blouse, pressed dark slacks, hair set in perfect waves, and a fresh, subtle beige manicure that must have cost sixty dollars at the salon.
The classic sixty-something American woman who took elaborate care of herself and wanted everyone to notice and admire her efforts.
“Hello, Ms. Sterling.”
Kiana sat down on the edge of a chair and poured herself lukewarm tea from the pot.
“How are you doing, dear?”
Her mother-in-law was smiling widely, but her eyes remained cold and scrutinizing, taking inventory.
“Working a lot. Tired, as usual.”
“Oh, your accounting work is so stressful,” Ms. Sterling said with fake sympathy. “Numbers and reports all day long. I’d go absolutely crazy doing that.”
She took a delicate bite of a cream puff and dabbed her lips carefully with a paper napkin.
“Darius mentioned you’re planning to redo the kitchen.”
Kiana met her gaze directly.
“I am.”
“It’s probably terribly expensive, isn’t it? Everything’s so pricey nowadays. Cabinets, appliances, countertops—it’s just awful what things cost.”
“I’ll manage fine.”
Ms. Sterling shook her head with the practiced air of a life expert who’d seen it all.
“That’s good, of course. But you know, Kiki, maybe you shouldn’t rush into it. Money sitting safely in the account is a good thing. A cushion for emergencies. And the kitchen is perfectly fine as it is. It can definitely wait a while longer.”
There it is, Kiana thought with cold clarity. It’s starting exactly as I knew it would.
She slowly stirred sugar into her tea, watching the spoon move in circles.
“I don’t like this kitchen. I want to update it to something more modern.”
“Well, I understand that feeling, dear.”
Her mother-in-law leaned closer across the table, and the overwhelming scent of cheap floral perfume wafted over.
“But think about it carefully. What if you suddenly need that money for something more important? Medical treatment, for example, or some other emergency?”
Darius sat completely silent, staring into his cup of tea as if it held the secrets of the universe.
His face was strained and tense, as if he expected an explosion at any moment.
“If I need the money, I’ll use it,” Kiana replied evenly. “But I haven’t needed it yet for anything urgent.”
Ms. Sterling sighed so theatrically it deserved an Oscar nomination.
“I, for example, saved all my life, penny by penny, putting away every spare dollar I could find. And what happened in the end? Now I’m retired, barely scraping by month to month. Utilities are expensive. Medication is expensive. At least Darius helps out when he can.”
Kiana raised an eyebrow slightly.
“He helps out financially?”
Darius visibly flinched.
“Well, sometimes I slip her some cash when I can, bring her groceries, help with bills.”
Kiana nodded slowly, processing this information.
Interesting revelation.
She’d always thought that maybe five hundred dollars a month at most went from their household budget to support his mother.
Apparently Darius was helping her with his own personal money—money which, judging by his constant small debts to Kiana, he definitely didn’t actually have.
“I’ve been thinking seriously,” Ms. Sterling continued, examining her perfect manicure as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Maybe I should sell my condo. My one-bedroom downtown must be worth quite a lot by now. I could sell it, buy something smaller and cheaper on the outskirts, and live comfortably on the difference.”
Kiana sipped her hot tea carefully.
…
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