After changing into soft clothes, Claire prepared a quick, simple dinner, washed the dishes, and settled onto the sofa with a book. Evening was the part of the day she treasured most. Once work was over, she could finally stop thinking about customers, conversations, and the endless rush of the salon. In the quiet of her apartment, she could be alone with her thoughts for a while. Daniel rarely came home before nine, which usually gave Claire two peaceful hours to herself.
That evening, she had arrived shortly after seven. She had taken off her shoes on the stairwell because her feet were throbbing after eight hours on them. The salon had been unusually busy. Her hands ached from repeating the same movements all day, and her fingers cramped from the strain.
Working six days a week was exhausting, but Claire was a skilled stylist. She had a loyal clientele and earned a steady income. She had no intention of giving that up merely because the work left her tired.
Her two-bedroom apartment greeted her with its familiar silence.
Daniel was once again staying late at the construction company, which meant she could breathe freely and rest without interruption.
Claire had inherited the apartment from her grandmother two years earlier. After the inheritance was settled, she had slowly arranged everything according to her own taste. She chose calm colors for the walls, bought comfortable furniture, removed things she did not need, and kept only what she genuinely loved.
After their wedding, Daniel moved in with her.
From the beginning, they had agreed that respect would be the most important rule in their home.
No interference from relatives.
No decisions made behind the other person’s back.
No attempts to dictate how the other should live.
At least, Claire sincerely believed that agreement was still in effect.
She opened her book again and managed to read only a few pages before the doorbell rang, sometime around half past seven.
Claire frowned in surprise.
Daniel had his own key, and whenever he came home early, he usually called first.
She went to the door and looked through the peephole.
Margaret stood outside in a dark coat, holding a large bag against her side.
“Claire, sweetheart, open up. It’s me!” her mother-in-law called.
Claire unlocked the door.
She could not imagine why Margaret had come on an ordinary weekday evening.
Her mother-in-law had always liked dropping by without much of an invitation, convinced that she had the right to enter her son’s home whenever she pleased. Still, she normally gave at least a brief warning.
“Good evening, Margaret,” Claire said, stepping aside. “Daniel isn’t home yet.”
“I know,” Margaret replied. “I spoke with him earlier. I came to see you, actually. There’s something important we need to discuss.”
Claire immediately became wary.
They went into the kitchen.
Margaret was usually confident and brisk, a woman who always knew exactly what she wanted. That evening, however, there was an unusual tension in her manner.
“Would you like some tea?” Claire asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
Margaret sat down at the table and remained silent for a moment.
Then she released a heavy sigh.
“Claire, our family is going through a very difficult situation. You know that Emily recently got divorced, don’t you?”
Claire nodded.
Daniel’s younger sister had separated from her husband about a month earlier.
She had been left with two children: seven-year-old Noah and four-year-old Lily.
“They’re staying with me for now,” Margaret continued. “But you know what my apartment is like. There’s only one bedroom. There are four of us now. The children barely have any room, Emily is struggling, and honestly, I’m completely worn out too.”
Claire poured the tea and listened without interrupting.
She already sensed that Margaret had not come merely to complain.
Whenever her mother-in-law began a conversation with such a long introduction, it almost always ended with a request that was difficult to refuse without being labeled cold-hearted.
“Children are children, of course,” Margaret went on. “They run around and make noise. The downstairs neighbor has already complained several times. Noah will be starting school soon, but there’s no proper desk for him to study at. Lily spreads her toys all over the room. The situation simply isn’t suitable.”
“Is Emily looking for work?” Claire asked.
“She is, naturally. But where can anyone find a good job quickly these days? She doesn’t have much experience, and having two children makes everything harder. One gets sick, then the other has to be picked up from school or daycare. Her ex-husband doesn’t pay child support either. He has vanished, and no one can reach him.”
“I see.”
Claire truly felt sorry for Emily.
But the longer Margaret spoke, the stronger Claire’s feeling became that the solution to this problem was about to be placed directly on her shoulders.
“I’ve been thinking for a long time about what we can do,” Margaret said. “And the answer is right in front of us.”