Chapter 1: The Allowance Wife
Friday night in the Miller household was always a trial, but tonight, the air was thick enough to choke on. The kitchen table, a scuffed pine monstrosity that Linda had insisted they keep because it was “perfectly good,” was covered in crumpled receipts.
Linda Miller, Mark’s mother, sat at the head of the table like a judge presiding over a sentencing hearing. She adjusted her reading glasses, her lips pursed so tight they disappeared. Mark, Sarah’s husband of two years, lay on the couch in the adjacent living room, engrossed in unboxing a new smartwatch. The crinkle of expensive packaging was the only sound accompanying Linda’s sighs.
Sarah stood by the sink, her hands plunged into soapy water that was rapidly cooling. She wasn’t wearing gloves. Linda claimed rubber gloves were a waste of money when “skin is waterproof.” Sarah’s knuckles were red and chapped, stinging from the harsh detergent.
“Sarah,” Linda said sharply, not looking up from a receipt. “Come here.”
Sarah dried her hands on a dishtowel that had seen better days and walked over. She knew the drill. Every Friday, Linda audited the household spending. Every cent of the meager allowance Mark gave Sarah had to be accounted for.
