The Golden Eggs That Feed on Blood

Simon's death was still fresh in my mind, and I wasn't about to gamble.

I rushed forward and pushed the golden egg back into her hands.

"Ma, you should keep this egg for yourself."

"Emma's just a child. She can't take something this valuable from you."

The mother's face darkened at once.

In the pitch-black night, it looked all the more grim and terrifying.

"Are you looking down on me, son? Is that why you don't want Emma getting close to me?"

"Or do you think I favor your brother's family, so you're picking a fight with me?"

"If you won't let Emma take this egg, then don't ever expect another one!"

My daughter looked confused too.

"Dad, what's wrong with you?"

"You and Mom haven't been paid in ages. Grandma's only doing this because she feels for us."

"Why are you being so harsh with her?"

I didn't know how to explain any of it to Emma.

All I could do was force out a smile.

"Ma, don't be angry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"With one thing after another going wrong in this house, my heart's heavy, so my words came out too sharp."

"I just think this egg is too valuable. Better to save it for something that really matters."

The mother ignored me and turned to stroke Emma's hair.

But behind that tender gaze, there seemed to hide a bloodthirsty greed.

"Emma's schooling, that's the thing that matters most."

"Take it, good girl. Don't let your grandma's love for you go to waste."

Emma nodded obediently.

Just as she reached out to take it, Quinn's voice came from behind me.

"Ma, what are you two doing out here in the middle of the night?"

The moment he saw the egg in her hand, his eyes lit up.

He shoved his way between me and the mother without a care.

"Did our hen lay another egg?"

"Ma, how could you do this? Simon's funeral still isn't paid for, and here you are slipping the egg to your eldest on the sly."

"They're all your grandchildren. You can't play favorites like this, old woman."

The mother's gaze kept sliding between Emma and Quinn.

As if she were choosing which one made the more satisfying prey.

It was only a golden egg. Not worth gambling my daughter's life on.

I steeled myself.

And beat him to it, pressing the egg into Quinn's hands.

"Quinn, you've got it wrong."

"Ma knows you're grieving. She didn't want to disturb your rest, so she had me pass this egg along to you."

"Simon met such a terrible end so young. His funeral can't be done halfway."

"Take this money and give Simon a proper, decent send-off."

Quinn looked the egg over carefully.

Once he was sure I hadn't tampered with it, he turned and left, well satisfied.

After he was gone, an uneasy feeling wouldn't leave me.

First, I was worried about Emma's tuition next month.

Second, I was afraid there really was something strange about that egg, and that I'd gotten Quinn killed by passing it on.

But day after day went by, and nothing happened.

Quinn's family was bouncing around, full of life, and had even gone and bought a new car.

Instead, it was during the wake that I happened to overhear the couple talking.

Quinn was cradling Simon's funeral portrait, his eyes crinkled with a grin.

"Wife, thank god you're clever, coming up with the idea of having Simon play dead."

"That fool Thomas Gray actually handed the egg right over to me."

"Now the hen, and every egg the hen lays, all of it belongs to us."

"A sum this big, no way we're just letting your brother's family have it for free!"