Chapter 4

Halfway through dinner, Lana walked in.

When she saw the takeout boxes, she froze for a moment. Then the shock on her face turned to anger. "So you did this on purpose, didn't you?

"Whenever I'm home, you're so stingy and never order anything good for me, but the moment I'm gone, you treat yourself to all this?"

"This one, this one, and that one. I want you to order them for me tomorrow." She pointed at each of her favorite dishes, ordering me around as if it were only natural.

I simply smiled, unhurried, and said, "Lana, have you misunderstood something?

"I ordered these for myself. Why should I order them for you?"

Her eyes widened in shock.

After a long pause, she snapped, "Are you out of your mind, you old woman? What do you mean, why should you order for me? You're my mom. If you don't do it, who will?"

I kept peeling the shrimp and glanced at her from the corner of my eye. "Weren't you just calling me an old woman? Now you remember I'm your mom when you want something?"

"What are you even talking about? Have you lost your mind?" She shot back, her anger spilling over as she stepped forward and slapped the shrimp out of my hand.

The half-peeled shrimp flew through the air, hit the white wall, and dropped to the floor with a splat.

Sauce splattered across the wall, leaving stains that would be difficult to clean.

I frowned. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Are you losing it, old woman? Should I check you into the psych ward?" she yelled, looking like she was about to flip the whole plate of shrimp off the table.

I moved quickly, caught her wrist, and slapped her hard across the face.

She barely seemed to process the pain, only staring at me in shock. "You—"

I pointed at the stained wall and floor, my voice cold. "Go clean it up."

She finally came to her senses. Holding her cheek, she shoved me away. "Are you insane? Why should I? You're the one who ordered it and made the mess. Now you're blaming me? Clean it up yourself!"

Without another word, I slapped her across the other cheek.

The slap echoed through the room, louder than the first one.

She shrieked, "Why are you doing this? Have you seriously lost your mind?"

I kept my expression blank. "Whether I've lost my mind or not is my problem. But you made a mess on my wall, so you'll clean it up."

"I'm not cleaning it up. Do it yourself, you psycho!" Lana shouted. She grabbed her bag, stormed off, and headed for her bedroom.

A few seconds later, I heard another furious shout.

"Damn it! Why is the door locked?" she yelled.

I did not respond. I continued eating my shrimp.

She went to the study next, only to find that door locked as well.

She stormed back over and glared at me. "What are you doing, old woman? Why did you lock my rooms? Where are the keys? Give them to me, now!"

I kept eating. "Didn't I already tell you? Clean up the mess, then you can go back to your rooms."

She glared at me for a long moment, clearly itching to talk back, but after those two slaps, she knew better than to push it. She sulked off to the bathroom. "Where's the rag?

"Is soap enough? Or am I supposed to use liquid soap or laundry detergent?

"Are you just going to ignore me, old woman? Say something!"

I did not respond.

I knew perfectly well she was not clueless. She was just pretending, trying to make it seem like she did not know how to clean it properly so I would end up doing everything for her.

She was just like David.

She never learned anything good, but she picked up every bad habit.

I shook my head and went back to my food.

It wasn't long before Lana trudged out with a rag, dropped into a squat, and started scrubbing the floor.

The floor was easy enough, but the wall was another story.

No matter how hard she wiped, the sauce only smeared further, turning the stain into an even bigger mess.

"It won't come off!" She threw the rag down in frustration and stormed over to me. "This is driving me crazy. The more I scrub, the worse it gets. Maybe I should peel the paint off the wall."

That was when I finally looked up at her. "So now you realize it won't come off? Why didn't you think about that before you made the mess?"

"Oh, I get it, you're about to start lecturing me again, aren't you?" She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "You always turn everything into a lecture. Don't you have anything better to do? You're just wasting my time!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "What are you imagining? I just want you to clean up the mess. I'm eating, and I can't spare time to lecture you right now."

"Shut up, you psycho old woman!" she snapped, completely fed up. "I already cleaned the floor, so give me the keys. I haven't even changed yet, my clothes are all greasy now."

I looked at her for a moment, then pointed at the storage room door standing open nearby. "That's your room now. You'll be staying there from now on. You don't need the keys."