Linda emerged from the living room, her face a mess from crying, spewing venom.
"Your son killed my husband! I won't rest until I see a million dollars!"
The ink wasn't even dry on Jack's death certificate, and there she was, on our doorstep, making demands.
Something smelled fishy.
I retorted, "What, if I go get a hair transplant, will that bring Uncle Jack back? Heck no, you won't get a dime from us!"
Ignoring her, she stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.
In a flash, she had it pressed against Mom's throat.
"Not paying, huh? Let's see how you like losing someone dear!"
Panic set in. Dad softly tried to reason with her.
"Okay, okay, you said a million, just give us some time. We'll get it."
Linda, half-believing, didn't remove the knife until it nicked Mom, leaving a bloody scratch.
"Make sure you keep your word, or next time, it won't be just a scratch!"
After a tense goodbye to Linda, Mom turned to me, her face lined with worry, "She's off the rails... what if she does something even crazier next time..."
"Don't worry, we'll rely on the cops. She's made her move, but we've got our bases covered."
Mom broke down, nodding through her tears.
I had a solid plan; even if Linda made more noise online or took us to court, we'd be protected by the law.
Just when things seemed to calm down—
Linda dropped another bombshell: she was pregnant.
"What? She's pregnant?"
Susan and Grandma showed up, dropping the bombshell.
Linda, smug, caressed her belly.
"That's right, the last heir to our family. If you want this baby, you know the drill."
Grandma looked pained and uncertain, her eyes darting between me and Susan.
"It's true... he was the last of our line. Jack's gone."
Her implication was clear—we should keep supporting Linda until the child was born.
We all knew that agreeing was a one-way ticket to endless financial drain.
The cost of future baby formula and Linda's retirement care... these expenses are substantial.
Desperate, Grandma turned to her daughters, "Are you heartless? This is our family's future! Agree now, or are you trying to kill me with worry?"
I thought about how Grandma had squeezed everything she could out of her daughters.
Now, with her son gone, she still expected them to prop up her daughter-in-law. Ridiculous.