Right at the exit, she turned around.
“Kiki, think about what I said. Family is important. We have to help each other.”
Kiana looked her straight in the eye.
“Of course. I’ll be sure to think about it.”
The door closed.
Darius went back to the living room, turned on the TV, and sat on the couch.
Kiana followed him, picked up the dirty mugs from the coffee table, and carried them to the sink.
“Listen,” Darius started without turning his head, “Mom is really in a difficult spot. Maybe we should help her out after all. Just a little, like five thousand.”
Kiana washed the mug and placed it on the drying rack.
“Why does she need five thousand?”
He shrugged.
“To live on. To have some peace of mind.”
“Darius, your mother has Social Security and she has her condo. If she truly needs money, she can sell her condo like she said herself, or find a part‑time job.”
“At her age?”
Kiana turned around, wiping her hands on a towel.
“She’s sixty‑two. Plenty of women her age are working.”
Darius frowned.
“You’ve gotten so cold.”
