The darkness was dense, but she could distinguish the outlines of the furniture, the window, the dresser, the walls.
Her heart was beating steadily, almost calmly, but her hands trembled slightly as she raised them and clenched them into fists.
A muffled voice came from the bathroom.
Darius was speaking softly, in a half whisper, but the walls were thin—very thin.
“Mom, are you ready?”
A pause.
He was listening to Ms. Sterling’s reply.
“Write down the PIN. 3‑8‑0‑6. The card is in her purse. The black Midwest Trust one. Take it all. She’s got over a hundred and twenty thousand in there.”
Kiana closed her eyes.
There it was.
The exact thing she had been waiting for.
Now, in this moment, everything was decided, finally.
There was no more doubt, hesitation, or pity.
Only cold, clear certainty.
“Just tonight, so she doesn’t have time to block it in the morning,” Darius continued. “I’ll tell her tomorrow that the card was stolen on the bus. We’ll split it fifty‑fifty. Deal?”
Another pause.
Then he muttered a short,
“Go get it.”
Click.
The conversation was over.
Kiana lay there staring at the ceiling.
Inside, it was surprisingly quiet.
No pain, no disappointment.
Just a faint, almost ironic curiosity about what they would feel when everything went wrong.
Darius returned a couple of minutes later, lay down carefully, pulled up the blanket, and breathed unevenly, nervously.
He was clearly anxious.
Kiana smiled in the darkness.
Don’t worry, she thought.
