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.
It was scalding, burning her lips slightly.
“That’s not a bad idea at all.”
Her mother-in-law looked up sharply, clearly surprised.
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. If you genuinely need money, that’s the logical option. Downsize and pocket the difference.”
Ms. Sterling went quiet, obviously expecting something completely different from this conversation.
Then she smiled, but the smile was crooked and didn’t reach her cold eyes.
“Yes, I suppose so… for now. Maybe I don’t actually have to sell it just yet. Maybe there’s another way to solve my problems.”
She stopped talking abruptly, staring at Kiana with obvious expectation.
Darius was watching her too now, his eyes intense.
Both of them were waiting—waiting for the daughter-in-law to offer to help, to say something like, “Don’t sell your home. Here, take some money. Live in peace.”
Kiana finished her tea in one long swallow and stood up.
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