The story continues

“Because Aunt Klara decided we didn’t deserve it,” she hissed through her teeth. Klara slowly exhaled. “Don’t you dare,” she said quietly but firmly. “Don’t drag the child into your grievances.” She turned to Zuzia and added more gently, “You’re not to blame for anything. And you can eat whatever you want.” Zosia jerked her head up. “What?!” “A child doesn’t pay for the decisions of adults,” Klara replied calmly. “This is my home, and I decided so.” Zuzia hesitantly reached for the caviar tartlet and looked at her mother as if waiting for a prohibition. Zosia pursed her lips. To forbid it would mean appearing petty. To allow it would mean admitting defeat. She said nothing. But something inside her was breaking. “You’ve always been like this,” she finally burst out, turning to Klara. “You always thought you were smarter, better. And now you’ve decided to show who’s ‘more successful’ here?” Klara smiled bitterly. — Successful? Zosia, we live in a rented apartment.