Kiana met her gaze.
“I am.”
“It’s probably expensive, isn’t it? Everything’s so pricey now. Cabinets, appliances, it’s just awful.”
“I’ll manage.”
Ms. Sterling shook her head with the air of a life expert.
“That’s good, of course. But you know, Kiki, maybe you shouldn’t rush it. The money sitting in the account is a good thing. A cushion. And the kitchen is fine as it is. It can wait.”
There it is, Kiana thought.
It’s starting.
She slowly stirred the sugar in her tea.
“I don’t like the kitchen. I want to update it.”
“Well, I understand that.”
Her mother‑in‑law leaned closer, and the scent of cheap floral perfume wafted from her.
“But think about it. What if you need the money for something more important? Medical treatment, for example, or something else?”
Darius sat silently, looking into his cup.
His face was strained, as if he expected an explosion.
“If I need it, I’ll use it,” Kiana replied evenly. “But I haven’t needed it yet.”
Ms. Sterling sighed so theatrically it deserved applause.
“I, for example, saved all my life, penny by penny. And what happened? Now I’m retired, barely making ends meet. Utilities are expensive. Medication is expensive. At least Darius helps out.”
Kiana raised an eyebrow.
“He helps out?”
Darius flinched.
“Well, sometimes I slip her some cash, bring her groceries.”
Kiana nodded.
Interesting.
She thought that about five hundred dollars a month at most went to her mother‑in‑law from their family budget.
Apparently, Darius was helping her with his own personal money, which, judging by his constant debts to Kiana, he didn’t have.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ms. Sterling continued, examining her nails.
“Maybe I should sell my condo. My one‑bedroom downtown must be worth a lot. I could sell it, buy something smaller on the outskirts, and live on the difference.”
Kiana sipped her tea.
It was hot, scalding her lips.
“Not a bad idea.”
Her mother‑in‑law looked up sharply.
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. If you need money, that’s the logical option.”
Ms. Sterling went quiet, clearly expecting something else.
Then she smiled, but the smile was crooked.
“Yes, I guess so… for now. Maybe I don’t have to sell it. Maybe there’s another way.”
She stopped talking, staring at Kiana expectantly.
Darius was watching, too.
Both of them were waiting for the daughter‑in‑law to offer to help—to say, “Don’t sell it. Here is some money. Live in peace.”
Kiana finished her tea and stood up.
“I’m going to change clothes. Long day.”
She left the kitchen, feeling their two gazes on her back, one bewildered and one angry.
In the bedroom, she closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her hands were slightly trembling, not from fear, but from cold, quiet, grinding rage.
They wanted her money.
It was obvious.
Ms. Sterling hadn’t come for tea.
She had come to scope out the situation, to see if her daughter‑in‑law would succumb to pity.
And Darius was in on it, sitting right there, silent, waiting.
Kiana listened closely.
Voices started up again in the kitchen, quieter now, muffled.
She got up, went to the door, and cracked it open a sliver.
The words reached her in fragments.
“She won’t give,” Ms. Sterling hissed. “She’s greedy.”
“Mom, don’t say that. She’s just cautious,” Darius muttered.
“Cautious.”
She snorted.
“She has a hundred thousand just sitting there, and I’m rotting away on Social Security.”
“Quiet. She’ll hear.”
“Let her hear. I raised you by myself your whole life. Your father left when you were three. I worked two jobs, and now you marry this cold piece of work and you can’t even help me properly.”
Darius mumbled something unintelligible.
“We have to act,” Ms. Sterling hissed. “Do you understand? Otherwise, we won’t get anything. She’s not stupid. Look how she twisted things. ‘Sell your condo,’ she says. Easy for her to say. She has everything.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
A pause.
Kiana held her breath.
“I was thinking maybe you can get the PIN for her card,” Ms. Sterling said. “You have access to her purse, right? Check it. The card is in there. Then I’ll withdraw the money quickly tonight before she even notices. And in the morning, we’ll say the card was stolen on the bus or at the grocery store, for example.”
Silence so thick that Kiana could hear her own heart beating.
“Are you serious?” Darius’s voice was tense, but not indignant—more like intrigued.
“Absolutely. Listen, she won’t even notice right away. It’s not like she keeps tabs on it. She’s got over a hundred and twenty thousand. What’s the big deal if we take some? We’ll split it later. Half for you, half for me. That’s fair, right?”
Another pause.
“I don’t know, Mom. That’s risky.”
