Her youth.

Sarah thought long and hard, and that was what decided her. Money wasn't everything when you had youth and beauty.

"I choose my youth. I'd rather die than go back to being old."

"You'll get old again eventually, Madam."

"Not if I do it right; I just have to go back to that shop regularly. Now untie me this instant, Thomas."

"As you wish. However, there is a complication. I called Krista to come over in case you decided otherwise."

"And what did that gold-digging slut say?"

"I didn't explain the situation to her, just that you needed her help."

The front door opened and closed somewhere downstairs and a voice called up, "Mother? Thomas?"

Thomas responded, "Up here, Miss Krista! In her room!"

There was the click-click of stilettos coming up the stairs and a moment later Krista walked in the door. She was twenty-five years old with light brown hair pulled back in a bun and her mother's steely looks. Her deep pink power-suit accentuated the hourglass figure she'd inherited from her mother before the sands of time had overfilled the older woman's body.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"I'm you're mother, Krista."

"Bullshit."

"I can prove it if you wish."

"Yeah, try."

"We used to have an old electric drill..."

Krista's face blanched. "What do you want me to do, Mother?"