Kith and Kin

Chapter One

Prudence's morning had already spiraled into chaos. The smell of burning toast filled the tiny kitchen as her eight-month-old squirmed in her arms, her soft whimpers rising in protest. She juggled the milk bottle in one hand, shaking the formula into a frothy swirl, while her other arm strained to keep the baby from wriggling free.
     “Casey!” she called out, her voice sharp with frustration. No answer. She sighed, her patience thinning with every second. The toaster's ding came too late—the bread was charred beyond salvation. With a muttered curse, Prudence set the milk bottle down and shoved the ruined toast into the sink. She carefully nestled the baby into the dining chair, securing her with one hand as she cooed and reached for her fingers.
     “Stay right here, sweetheart,” she murmured, brushing a kiss on her forehead. Her footsteps were heavy as she ascended the staircase, each creak of the wooden planks adding to the weight in her chest. The lack of response from her eldest daughter was gnawing at her. Casey had always been stubborn, but lately, she’d been secretive too, a combination Prudence had learned to approach with caution.
She knocked twice on the bedroom door, the sound sharp in the quiet hallway.
     “Casey,” she called again, her tone firm but laced with concern. When no reply came, she pushed the door open.
What she saw froze her in place.
Jimmy stood in the middle of the room, his back to her, hurriedly pulling a shirt over his bare torso. His jeans were undone, hanging low on his hips. On the bed, Casey stirred, her hair a tousled mess against the pillows. She squinted at Prudence, her face half-hidden under the blanket.
     “Mom, what the hell?!” Casey groaned, her voice thick with sleep. She sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Can you not barge in?”
Prudence’s gaze darted between the two of them, her heart sinking as realization dawned. Jimmy, her son, had been here all along. Her stomach churned at the implications.
       “Mom, get out!” Casey snapped, her words cutting through the tension like a blade.
Prudence stood rooted to the spot for a moment longer, her mind racing. Jimmy refused to meet her eyes, and Casey glared, defiant even in her disheveled state. Finally, Prudence turned on her heel, shutting the door behind her with a force that echoed down the hall. Prudence’s mind reeled as she descended the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. She had known for months that something was going on between Casey and Jimmy. The stolen glances, the hushed tones when they thought she wasn’t paying attention, it was impossible to miss. But seeing it so plainly, walking into that room and finding Jimmy half-dressed, was something else entirely. It was like a slap she hadn’t prepared for, a truth she hadn’t wanted to confirm. By the time she returned to the kitchen, the baby was fussing, her little fists waving in the air. She forced herself to focus, scooping her up and bouncing her gently on her hip.
    "It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She placed the baby back in her chair and busied herself with breakfast, her hands moving on autopilot as her thoughts churned. Minutes later, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Jimmy appeared, fully dressed now, his hair slicked back in that careless way he always wore it. He didn’t so much as glance at her as he headed for the table.
     "Good morning to you too," Prudence said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. Jimmy paused briefly, his expression unreadable, before dropping into the chair. He shoveled a few bites into his mouth without a word, then stood and grabbed his coat.
      “I’ll be back later,” he muttered, already heading for the door. Prudence didn’t bother responding. She knew where he was going—to some dingy card table or betting house, chasing another losing streak. It was a routine she’d grown numb to, but it stung all the same. A few moments after Jimmy left, Casey appeared, her robe tied loosely around her waist. She shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and mumbling a half-hearted,
     "Morning." She plopped into a chair at the table, yawning as she reached for the mug of coffee Prudence had just set down. Prudence didn’t look at her immediately. Instead, she focused on feeding Sarah, scooping a spoonful of mashed banana into the baby’s eager mouth. Sarah giggled, her tiny feet kicking against the high chair, oblivious to the tension in the room. Casey broke the silence first, stretching lazily.
     “So, the club’s been good. Tips are up this week,” she said, her tone casual, as if they were talking about the weather.
Prudence finally looked at her, her eyes narrowing.
     “The club,” she repeated flatly. “Right.”
Casey smirked, stirring sugar into her coffee.
     “You don’t have to say it like that, Mom. It’s a job. And a good one, for that matter. Pays better than most of the crap out there.”
     “It’s a job,” Prudence echoed, her voice tight. She wiped Sarah’s face with a damp cloth, her movements sharp.
     “Sure.”
Casey leaned back in her chair, watching her mother with an amused expression.
     “You’re not gonna start, are you? Because I’m not in the mood for another lecture.”
Prudence set the cloth down and took a deep breath.
     “I wasn’t planning on it,” she said evenly. But her voice betrayed her, heavy with unspoken words. She couldn’t shake the image of Jimmy in Casey’s room or the way her daughter had dismissed her earlier. It wasn’t just about the club, the late nights, or the choices Casey was making, it was everything, all of it piling up until it felt unbearable. Casey shrugged, oblivious or perhaps indifferent to the turmoil brewing inside her mother. She sipped her coffee, her gaze drifting to Sarah, who was now babbling happily.
     “She’s cute, you know. I mean, annoying as hell when she cries, but still cute.”
Prudence’s lips twitched into a faint smile despite herself.
    “She is,” she agreed softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Sarah’s face. For a moment, the tension eased, the chaos of the morning fading into the background. But it was only a moment. Prudence knew the peace wouldn’t last, not with everything simmering just beneath the surface.
The kitchen was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft scrape of Casey’s spoon against her mug and Sarah’s occasional babbles. Prudence moved with mechanical precision, clearing Jimmy’s untouched plate from the table, her mind a swirling mess of thoughts she didn’t dare voice. The front door creaked open, and heavy boots thudded against the wooden floor. Prudence’s head didn’t even turn, but Casey froze mid-sip, her eyes darting toward the doorway.
Adam stepped into the kitchen, his face grim, streaked with dirt and what looked like faint smudges of blood. His big black bag swung in one hand, and in the other, a gun glinted dully in the morning light. He looked like a man returning from a battle he hadn’t quite won. Casey leaned back in her chair, her face a mask of nonchalance, though her fingers tightened around her coffee mug. Prudence continued wiping the counter, her movements unhurried.
     “Where’s Jimmy?” Adam’s voice was a low growl, filled with frustration and something darker.
     “He just stepped out,” Casey replied, her tone flippant, as if she were discussing the weather. She didn’t even look at him. Adam let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening as he strode toward the table. Without warning, he dropped the bag in front of Casey with a loud thud. The metallic sound of something shifting inside made her flinch, but her smirk remained.
    “Count it,” Adam barked before turning on his heel and heading upstairs. Casey rolled her eyes, pushing the bag aside.
     “Always so dramatic,” she muttered under her breath, but Prudence caught it. Prudence didn’t react, didn’t even lift her gaze from the sponge she was wringing out. This was life now, a chaotic, tangled web of secrets and survival. Her son, a gambling addict, slipping further into debt and destruction. Her daughter, a hooker who masked her pain with bravado and indifference. And Adam… well, she didn’t want to know where he went or what he did to bring back that bag or what the gun in his hand had been used for. They lived in a world so far removed from normalcy it felt like a fever dream. Surrounded by trees and silence, the dense forest their only neighbors, they were completely cut off from the rest of the world. No signal. No visitors. No prying eyes. It was both a sanctuary and a prison. Prudence turned to Sarah, who was now rubbing mashed banana into her chubby cheeks with a giggle. She sighed, reaching to clean the baby up, her hands moving with the same resigned efficiency she’d mastered over the years. She’d given up hoping for change. The weight of their choices, their lives, had finally crushed the last bit of fight she had left. This was her life now. And there was no way out.