My meals were already prepared.
I wasn’t home when she wanted them.
Once she discovered that making me doubt myself ended the argument, she kept doing it.
Mara stared at her.
“So you weren’t confused. You knew exactly whose food you were taking.”
Kayla looked away.
“And every time she caught you, you made her think she was imagining it.”
Kayla stood.
“I said I’ll pay her back.”
She went into her room and shut the door.
Nobody slept much after that.
The next morning, the three of us sat at the kitchen table.
I brought the receipts.
Kayla reimbursed me for everything I could document.
She added a little extra to cover for the inconvenience she caused.
We also agreed that, from then on, nobody would touch anyone else’s groceries without asking.
Still, the bigger problem wasn’t solved.
Mara didn’t trust Kayla anymore.
Neither did I.
For the next few days, the apartment felt different.
There were names on the shelves, milk, and leftovers.
Kayla stopped hanging around the kitchen when either of us was there.
Then, one evening, she came into the living room.
“I’m moving out.”
Mara looked up.
“When?”
“When I can get everything sorted.”
I didn’t celebrate.
