“Where’s the grocery money?” Eleanor demanded, moving closer.

“Who pays for the kitchen orders?”

“You’ve got twelve thousand dollars sitting in your second credit union account,” I said, turning the silver ring on my right thumb once.

“You can use that.”

Daniel took two steps toward the coffee table, his face red under the overhead lamp.

“We’re a household, Mariana,” he said, shifting his weight.

“We decide together where the liquid capital goes.”

“You decided together,” I said, looking from him to his mother.