**Diary Entry 12th March**
It all started last night when I refused to let my seventeen-year-old daughter Emma go to her friend Sophies birthday party.
*Mum, I told you already! Its just a café, and Ill call a cab straight after. Promise!*
Emma stood there in the hallway, dressed in her new blue dress, shifting impatiently. I crossed my arms, blocking her way.
*Absolutely not. Its nearly midnight. You can see Sophie in the daytimeits Saturday tomorrow.*
Her voice cracked, thick with tears. *But everyone else gets to go! You dont trust me at all, do you? Treating me like a child!*
*London at night is no place for a girl your age. End of discussion. Go to your room.*
With a furious glare, she stormed off, slamming her bedroom door so hard the china in the cabinet rattled. My heart poundedanother ruined evening.
Then the phone rang.
I sighed, expecting my neighbour or my mothers usual nagging. Instead, a trembling voice I hadnt heard in years whispered, *Marina? Its Lucy Lucy Carter. Do you remember me?*
Lucymy closest friend from university, before life pulled us apart. Fifteen years, reduced to the occasional Christmas card. Now here she was, sobbing into the phone.
*Lucy? Of course. Whats happened?*
Her words tumbled outher partner of ten years had thrown her out. The flat was his, her job under the table. No savings, nowhere to go. *Im at Paddington Station, Marina. Ive got no one else.*
The image of Lucyonce the most confident girl in our yearhuddled on a station bench shattered me. All my frustration at Emma dissolved.
*Take a cab. Come to mine. Ill cover the fare.*
An hour later, Lucy stood at my door. The vibrant woman I remembered was gonereplaced by a hollow-eyed stranger in a crumpled coat. She collapsed into my arms, shaking.
I made tea, changed the sheets on the sofa bed. She barely spoke, just whispered *thank you* before sinking into exhausted sleep.
But at dawn, I woke to a soundmy bedroom door, slightly ajar. Peering through the gap, my blood ran cold.
Lucy was on her knees, rifling through my drawers. My jewellery boxMums earrings, my late husbands thin gold chainshe inspected it with sharp, disappointed eyes before shoving it back. Then she moved to the documents.
I retreated, heart hammering. Why? Money? Valuables? But why leave the jewellery?
By breakfast, she was all smiles, chattering about job hunting, *Just until I get back on my feet.*
Emma, sharp as ever, muttered, *Shes weird. Her eyes keep darting around.*
The next day, I rang an old uni friend, Olivia.
*Lucy Carter? Be careful, Marina. Remember the trip fund that went missing? Lydia swore she saw Lucy pocket it. And last I heard, she was drowning in debtcollectors hounding her.*
I hurried home early. Found Lucy in Emmas room, flipping through an old photo albumpictures of James, my husband.
*What are you doing?* My voice was ice.
She spun, guilty panic flashing. *Just tidying!*
*Liar. I saw you last night. Youre after money.*
The mask dropped. *So what if I am? Im desperate! And youyouve got it all. House, job, daughter. James was always careful with money. I thought he mightve left somethingold coins, anything!*
James childhood coin collectionworthless, gathering dust.
*You used me.*
She sneered. *What choice did I have?*
Emma walked in then. *Mum?*
*Pack your things,* I told Lucy. *Youve got ten minutes.*
No apologies. Just cold silence as she shoved her things into her bag. At the door, she smirked. *Goodbye, then.*
I didnt answer. Just shut the door behind her.
Sliding to the floor, I let Emma hold me. *She wasnt worth it, Mum.*
And she wasnt. Because as I sat there, breathing in the quiet of my homemy real treasure wasnt in drawers or boxes. It was right beside me, arms tight around my shoulders.
