“Then tell me!” I demanded.

“Why should I? You’ll just keep blaming me for everything!” Jane said. She turned away. “Leave. I’m done with this.”

“Fine,” I said, slamming the door as I left.

When I got home, Kaden was putting on his coat.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Just out for a walk,” my husband said, kissing my cheek. “Milo is asleep. Dinner’s in the fridge.” Then he walked out, leaving me in silence.

Kaden was a stay-at-home dad. We had agreed this was the best choice for our family. I spent most of my time either at work or taking care of Mom, leaving little time for anything else.

Milo needed stability, and having Kaden at home gave him that. Even with his hands full, Kaden often stepped in to help with Mom. He never complained, and for that, I was deeply thankful.

Over the next few weeks, Mom kept complaining that things were missing.

At first, I thought she was just confused, but then I started noticing it too. Little items—jewelry, keepsakes—were gone.

It always happened on the days Jane visited. My frustration turned into anger. How could she be so selfish?

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I drove to Jane’s house, determined to confront her face-to-face.

Jane opened the door and stepped aside, crossing her arms. “Here to accuse me of stealing again?” she asked, her voice sharp.

“Mom has lost more things,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jane raised an eyebrow. “And you think I took them? Why would I?”

“Because this is how you’ve always been! You’ve done this before, and I know you need money!” I snapped.

Jane’s face hardened. “Why don’t you ask your husband what it’s like to need money?”

“Don’t bring Kaden into this!” I shouted. “He’s the only one who actually helps me!”

Jane scoffed. “If you’re so sure, call the police. Go ahead. Do it.”

“Maybe I will!” I yelled. Without waiting for a response, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

Instead of calling the police, I made up my mind to install security cameras at Mom’s house.

I went to the store, picked out a set of cameras, and drove back, determined to catch whoever was taking her things.

When I walked into the house, I was surprised to see Nancy. Her shift was over hours ago.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, setting the box of cameras on the table.

“Jane said she’d pay me to work more hours so you could get some rest,” Nancy replied, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“That doesn’t sound like her,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Why not? She’s done it before,” Nancy said, looking puzzled. “She just asked me not to tell you.”

I stared at her, unsure what to say. It didn’t fit the picture I had of Jane, but I couldn’t argue with Nancy’s words.

I grabbed the cameras and began setting them up in the living room and Mom’s bedroom.

When I finished, I noticed a pile of new medical bills on the kitchen counter. I flipped through them and felt a lump in my throat. The amounts were enormous.

“Nancy!” I called out. “Do you know anything about these bills? They weren’t here before.”

Nancy walked over and glanced at the papers. “Oh, they come every month. Jane usually pays them.”

Her words left me stunned. I was starting to think this was all some kind of prank.

A few days later, Mom called me from her room, her voice anxious. “My gold ring is gone,” she said.