The cars were still there when she returned to the house. She entered and, while taking her shoes off, thought the voices coming in from the kitchen sounded familiar.

"Nina, dear. Welcome back. I'm making dinner; hope you're hungry," her aunt said when she entered the room. She froze upon seeing her sister and mother sitting opposite Luana on the bar stools. A perfect ending for the perfectly lousy day, she thought.

Her mother and sister were both dressed elegantly. Her sister Rita, wore a casual but smart black dress, while her mother opted for a business suit. Nina noticed her shoes – they looked a lot like a pair she wanted to buy one of the few times she and her mother went shopping, but couldn't afford.

They both got up from their chairs ceremoniously and, one by one, exchanged with her a stiff hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Nina, why didn't you tell us you were back?" her mother asked. "Luana told me you're imposing on her privacy. This is not how you were raised," she said, sitting back down on her stool.

"Well, can you blame her, Mom?" Rita interjected, not giving Nina a chance to respond. "Look at this house. Luana, you really managed to turn this run-down ruin into something pretty spectacular."

To her surprise, Nina was no longer the pushover they remembered from before she took her trip to Asia.

"Actually, Mom," she began, putting emphasis on the last word. "You made it a bit awkward with the whole suing-me spectacle." Her mother's face took on a shocked expression.

"Nina is welcome here for as long as she wants," Luana said. "I've actually grown quite a bit lonely here, so I'm more than happy to have her." Nina felt her heart swell at those words. She had never been so grateful for her aunt. It was nice to have someone unapologetically on her side. Her dad always had her best interests in mind, but he had avoided taking sides.

"I guess she's a grown-up now. Not by the way she behaves though," her mother said, looking her over. "Nor by the way she dresses. But I guess her age gives her some agency. I only wish she'd apply it to something more important than packing up and moving to the opposite side of the world from where her family is," she said, turning her gaze to Luana.

"How sure are we that she was really in Thailand?" Rita said. "She might as well have spent the last six months in Rijeka."

"Why are you here?" Nina interrupted, still standing at the kitchen entrance.

"We bumped into your aunt in town, and she was kind enough to invite us for dinner," her mother said. Behind her, Nina saw Luana shrug and toss her an apologetic look.

"I'm making zucchini soup and pesto genovese with pasta," she said, going back to the pot boiling on the stove. "You can chop the basil if you want to help."

Nina was in no mood to participate at a family dinner. Her legs were covered with mosquito bites, and they suddenly started to itch badly. She took out a knife from a drawer and used it to cut some of the basil growing on the windowsill. She scratched her leg with the knuckle of her right hand, still holding the knife.

"I would never go to Thailand," her sister declared. "God knows what kind of diseases you brought back home with you. Luana, I hope you have all your shots."

Nina was grinding her teeth.

"Did you manage to get a job while I was away?" she couldn't help asking.

"As a matter of fact, I did!" Rita exclaimed.

Her mother shifted in her chair. "Oh yes, Rita is a wonderful concierge at the Red Island resort. She's already tended to a few celebrities this summer."

Nina was shocked. The one thing she did not expect upon returning was finding her sister employed.

"Well, that's—great! I'm glad for you," she said, and realized she really meant it. She had always thought Rita was redeemable if she could just get away from their mother for a substantial amount of time.

"Are you sure Nina can eat zucchini soup, Luana? She's such a picky eater," her mom said out of nowhere.

A familiar sense of helplessness and injustice overwhelmed Nina.

"What? That's not true. Zucchini soup sounds amazing." She glanced at her aunt to reassure her.

"You were always a picky eater as a child. I never knew what to do with you. You're lucky I was such a patient parent. Another mother would have let you starve," her mother added, glancing casually at her perfectly manicured nails.

Nina remembered boiled beet tops, runny eggs, and leftover casseroles. It was true – sometimes the food her mother made was simply inedible. As soon as her grandmother taught her to cook, she took over making her own meals. She didn't know what to say; stating the truth would only enrage her mother, but she was tired of being belittled.

"I just liked Grandmother's food better," she said, knowing it was a mistake. But she realized she didn't care. The worst punishment her mother could offer was the cold treatment, and Nina felt that might be the best outcome for the evening. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

"I always liked your cooking, Mom," Rita suddenly said, as if just remembering.

"Maria, how's work? Three more years until retirement—you must be looking forward to it," Luana interjected, obviously trying to change the subject.

Nina's mother took a deep breath. "You know, when I was just a regular nurse, I always thought the head nurse wasn't doing her job right. But ever since I took over, I've seen how mediocrity and inefficiency in our hospital are just appalling. You do what you can, of course, and I've improved the situation by heaps, but there's still so much to do. I don't think they can afford to let me go—they just wouldn't survive without me." She straightened her back slightly. "They'll probably try to keep me there until I die, I'm afraid. But we all have to do our duty, so I'm not even thinking about retiring yet."

Luana nodded as if nothing she had heard surprised her in the slightest. "I see. I've always thought it's fair to give younger people a chance to make a difference," she said with her back to them.

"Of course!" Nina's mother exclaimed. "But they're just so incapable, it's impossible. I can assure you, that place would burn to the ground if I were absent for more than a few days. That's why I haven't taken a proper vacation in years!"

Nina was mixing basil leaves with olive oil, shredded garlic, and aged cheese. Luana took out a hand food processor from a cupboard and handed it to her without a word. She plugged it in, and for the next few minutes, conversation was halted as the sound of the processor filled the room. Nina lost her appetite. All the comfort and family atmosphere she had felt the previous day was sucked out of the house with her mother and sister there. She wanted to go to her room and curl up under the blankets until they left. Spending time with them drained her energy and confidence. All the joy that spread through her after talking to Bo on the phone was now gone, and her thoughts about the upcoming week were bleak and pessimistic.

The soup tasted excellent, but Nina could barely swallow. She forced herself to eat, determined not to prove her mother right. The conversation dragged, and Nina silently wished for the ordeal to end.

"Nina, about the upcoming trial," her mother began as Nina gathered the soup plates. "If you think about it, you'll see it's in everyone's best interest for your father's money to be used to renovate the house. You don't want your childhood home to fall apart, do you? Honestly, I can't believe you'd be so selfish to just take that money for yourself. Selfish and stupid, that's what it is. I thought you had a tiny amount of foresight, but I was wrong." Any pretense of subtlety had vanished. Nina had been expecting this speech eventually, but it still caught her off guard.

Luana attempted to intervene, "Maria, I'm sure Anton had his reasons for dividing the assets as he did. Besides, I'm also sure the bank could give you a loan for the repairs, now that Rita has a job."

"They will not!" her mother snapped. "Rita's job is part-time, and they refuse to give housing loans to people over sixty. It's pure ageism!"

Rita, avoiding eye contact, focused intently on her plate of spaghetti.

"Maybe Rita should get a proper job then!" Nina blurted out, unable to hold back.

Her mother stared at her with an unreadable expression. 

"Maybe you shouldn't behave like a spoiled brat," she said coldly. "Your father would be ashamed of you. He didn't know the roof would start leaking right after he died! Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace a whole roof these days? Of course you don't. Like you care? You just ran off to Bangkok without a second thought for your family. Is this what you think your father would have wanted? For us to grow apart? Do you think he'd be proud to know you took his money and left the country? Leaving your sister to sleep in a house where the roof could collapse on her at any moment? If you think he'd applaud that, you're more deluded than I thought. And no amount of world travel is going to fix it."

Rita seized the moment to chuckle, her mouth still full. Luana sat frozen, her fork full of green spaghetti paused halfway to her mouth.

Nina's heart raced. She was acutely aware of her mother's disdain for her decision to start a new life. She hadn't expected her support, but she wasn't prepared for this accusatory outburst. It had never occurred to her that her father might disapprove; quite the opposite, she always felt she had his blessing, even though they never talked about it while he was still alive. Frustration welled up inside her, finally boiling over in the form of bitter, unstoppable tears.

Rita stopped laughing. Her mother diverted her gaze with a quiet but distinguishable click of her tongue. This turned up the fire and Nina's frustration transformed into blind rage. She felt she could not control herself, for she had entered the kind of state only her mother had the power to put her in. Ashamed of herself and afraid of what she might do – she had a strong urge to take her plate and smash it on the floor, but didn't want to do it in Luana's house – Nina got up and moved toward the door without saying a word.

"Typical," her mother muttered. "If I had a dime for every time – " 

Nina couldn't make out the rest of the words. She hurriedly put on her jacket and stormed out of the house.