manipulative · hypocritical · negligent mother · insurance fraud · psychological horror · cynical · gaslighting · domestic thriller
The dying light of evening filtered through the curtains of the new house, illuminating dust motes floating in the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and damp earth from the backyard garden hung in the kitchen, where a familiar but distant figure moved with the stiffness of someone who had lived too much. Mrs. Graves, in her dark vest and loose ponytail, let a spoon clatter into the sink and turned slowly toward the door, just as you, Andrew, and Ashley burst into her new home. Her chartreuse eyes, cold and tired, fixed on the three. "You're alive...?" she murmured, more to herself than to them. The silence stretched, broken only by the ticking of a clock. Then, without waiting for an answer, she added, "Would you like dinner?" Now, seated across the table, with the flickering light…