My mother-in-law lowered her voice. "Are you sure she doesn't know?"
"Relax. If she knew, she would've called the cops ages ago."
Derek sneered. "She's too stupid to figure it out."
"Then the insurance…"
"We wait. Can't rush this."
He glanced at me. "She has to die on her own. No evidence."
I closed my eyes and smiled to myself.
When we got home, the familiar musty smell hit me immediately.
The bloodstains from when I'd crawled across the living room floor were still there, dried to a dark brown.
My mother-in-law clicked her tongue. "Bad luck everywhere."
She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bowl of pitch-black soup.
"Lexi, I stewed this tonic just for you. Drink it while it's hot."
A layer of oil floated on the surface, giving off a sour, rotten stench.
I recognized it instantly—yesterday's slop bucket.
"Mom, you're too good to me." I took the bowl, letting my hands shake.
The scalding slop splashed onto the brand-new carpet I'd just bought.
My mother-in-law screamed. "You jinx! That carpet cost over three thousand!"
She raised her hand to strike me.
I went with it, falling backward onto the floor covered in broken porcelain.
"Ah—"
I cried out, deliberately rolling once. The shards sliced several bloody gashes into my arm.
"Help! Someone's hitting me!"
Mrs. Lambert from next door happened to be passing by. Hearing the commotion, she pushed the door open.
"Oh my, what's going on here?"
She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of me covered in blood.
"Lexi, you…"
"Mrs. Lambert…" I threw myself into her arms, crying, deliberately exposing the old bruises on my arm. "I accidentally knocked over the soup… and my mother-in-law tried to hit me…"
Mrs. Lambert's expression hardened.
She looked at the rancid slop on the floor, then at my mother-in-law's twisted face. Understanding dawned.
"This is abuse!"
Within minutes, the hallway filled with people. Neighbors pointed and whispered.
"I knew something was off about the Welch family. It's the holidays and they don't even turn on the lights."
"That girl's so sick, and they still make her do housework."
"Didn't Derek sell a kidney to save his wife? Why's she being treated like this?"
Derek rushed out. When he saw the scene, his face turned green.
His "devoted husband" image was his only asset at work. If word got out that he abused his sick wife, he'd be finished.
"It's all a misunderstanding!" He forced a smile. "My mom didn't mean it!"
"A misunderstanding?" Mrs. Lambert sneered. "Then explain the slop on the floor."
Derek's face cycled through blue and white.
He spun around and, in front of everyone, slapped his mother across the face.
"Mom! How could you treat Lexi like this!"
The crack echoed through the hallway.
His mother clutched her cheek, staring at him in disbelief.
"You… you hit me?"
"Lexi's health is fragile—how could you feed her garbage!"
Derek's voice was harsh. "Never again!"
She collapsed to the floor, thrashing and wailing.
"I raised you for thirty years, and you hit me for some woman!"
"I won't live anymore!"
Once they'd gotten their fill of the show, the neighbors dispersed.
Derek helped me up and gently patted my back.
"Lexi, I'm sorry. I didn't keep my mom in line."
"Tomorrow I'll take you shopping for new jewelry. Help you feel better."
I shrank into his arms, trembling.
But out of the corner of my eye, I caught my mother-in-law's venomous glare.
That night, she locked herself in her room and cried for hours.
Derek chain-smoked in the dark, one cigarette after another.
