Kiana stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel.
Darius stood by the mirror, buttoning his shirt, pretending not to notice her gaze.
“Your mother is coming over?” she asked calmly.
He shrugged.
“Yeah, she wants to talk about some of her business.”
“I see.”
She walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
Her hands were steady, but inside everything was wound into a tight knot.
So, it begins, she thought.
At work, Kiana tried to concentrate on the reports, but her thoughts kept scattering.
She pictured opening the door that evening and seeing her mother‑in‑law with her fake smile and that particular look—greedy, assessing.
Ms. Sterling was skilled at playing the victim, a poor, lonely woman abandoned by everyone except her beloved son.
In reality, she had a decent Social Security check, a paid‑off one‑bedroom condo downtown, and perfectly healthy legs that definitely didn’t require dragging Darius to her weekend place every Saturday.
But Darius believed her—or pretended to.
Kiana closed another file full of numbers and leaned back in her chair.
Outside the office window, she could see gray rooftops, bare tree branches, and the color of old asphalt.
A dull October day, one of thousands.
