Upon opening the door, I saw Ronald, Frances, and Colette in the living room, chatting and laughing as if they were a real family. Colette had moved out of her small apartment and into this house some time ago, even convincing Anderson’s parents to join her and provide support. She insisted on not hiring a nanny; instead, she expected me to fill that role. This seemed to be her way of retaliating, likely because she was once tasked with taking care of me and wasn't thrilled about it.
When they first moved in, Ronald and Frances kept a close watch on me, firmly believing I was responsible for their son's death and robbing them of the chance to see Anderson one last time. It wasn’t until I revealed that Anderson had passed away in Colette’s bed that they reluctantly decided against moving back to their place, all for the sake of their grandson. The three settled in here, seemingly eager to squeeze me out to claim a bigger share of the estate.
As soon as Frances saw me, she put on a disapproving face. "You were gone so long buying groceries. If you make my grandson go hungry, you’ll have to answer for it."
I set the groceries down, feeling drained. "Mom, I’m not feeling well. I need to rest a bit before making dinner."
Frances’s expression turned sour immediately, but Colette quickly jumped in with a cheerful voice, "Mom, let me help! I’ve been wanting to show off my cooking skills."
Ronald, hearing this, was quick to decline. After all, Colette was carrying their family’s only heir. He ordered me, "Cook the meal first, then rest. Maybe let your mom give you a hand."
Even when I prepared the meals, Colette would barely touch them. She feared I might poison her and the child, so she'd only take a few bites before retreating to her room to spit it out. Ronald and Frances, desperate for the grandchild, treated Colette with utmost care and indulgence.
When Frances came over and tugged at me, I nearly lost my balance. She huffed in annoyance and yanked again, "Quit pretending. Every time we ask you to do something, you're either too sick or too tired."
I shook off her hand and, with a pained expression, turned around and headed to my room. Colette’s face briefly lit up before she masked it with a facade of concern. "Ruby, are you okay?"
I could still hear Ronald and Frances complaining about me being lazy, while they praised Colette for being kind and sensible. I ignored her and lay down, pretending to sleep. Colette seemed to believe I was genuinely unwell and eventually left the room only when Frances called for dinner.
I wasn't in any hurry to expose her yet, choosing instead to turn over and let myself fall into a deep sleep. Colette knew my routines well, just as I knew she wasn’t going to let Anderson's inheritance slip from her grasp without a fight. We were both waiting...
