Her gold-digger daughter.

Krista looked at the call display on her phone. Mother; what did that harridan want? I'd best get it over with. She answered.

"Hello, Sarah. What disaster has befallen you today?"

"Nothing, dear. I was just thinking how lonely I would be now that your father was gone, and I felt now would be a good time to mend some fences."

She thought, "You could mend my fence by dropping dead, you old bat," but she said, "that would be lovely, Mother."

"I have something to give you; we can meet for lunch at that café near your office."

"Of course, Mother. See you there at one." At least it would be over quickly.

Krista sat in the café waiting for Sarah. Her mother was ten minutes late, as usual, but this time she wasn't wearing the forlorn look of some invented tragedy. In fact, Sarah was smiling! Krista glanced around to see who was bleeding.

After ordering and small talk (Sarah never made small talk), Krista's mother took out a box. It was about a foot long and a couple of inches square, made of the kind of metallic-sheen cardboard that expensive jewelry stores use. She shook it, but it didn't make a sound. It was kind of heavy, though. Krista moved to open it.

"Oh, not here, dear. Wait until you're back at work."

So it was a trap. Krista resolved to open it in her office where nobody else would see.

The rest of lunch went reasonably well, assuming you were watching a pair of vicious beasts circle and look for an opening. Krista was surprised that her mother was on good behaviour the whole time. Krista didn't relax, but she started thinking that Sarah might actually have a bit of good intention in her.

When she got back to the firm she went into her office and closed the door. Nobody else was present except Alexandra, her articling student, who didn't really count. She opened the box.