“I have every transfer.”
Nobody spoke.
I opened the banking application.
The amounts appeared one after another.
2,700.
3,000.
2,500.
3,200.
2,800.
3,000.
Month after month.
Year after year.
Almost one hundred thousand dollars.
I turned the screen toward them.
“That’s what I sent.”
Selina stared at it.
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No?”
“No. We had household expenses.”
“Of course.”
“We fed you when you visited.”
“You mean before I left.”
“Utilities.”
“Fine.”
“Repairs.”
“Fine.”
“Taxes.”
“Fine.”
She became louder.
“You don’t know how expensive it is to maintain a house!”
I nodded.
“Then let’s calculate.”
She stopped.
I opened the calculator.
“Electricity. Water. Food. Property taxes. Repairs. Medicine.”
I typed slowly.
“Even if I give you more than you actually spent, you still can’t explain the rest.”
Godfrey cursed under his breath.
Phedra was still holding my arm.
Her fingers were trembling.
I looked down at her.
“How long have you been sleeping in the shed?”
She lowered her eyes.
“About six months.”
My throat tightened.
“Why?”
“They said the bedroom was needed.”
“For what?”
“Storage.”
I looked toward the house.
A house I had paid to build.
A house where my wife had once dreamed of hanging family photographs.
A house where my mother had apparently decided my wife no longer deserved a bed.
I took a slow breath.
“Where are my photographs?”
Phedra looked confused.
“Which ones?”
“Our wedding photographs.”
She swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
I turned toward Selina.
“Where are they?”
“They’re somewhere inside.”
“Where?”
“I don’t remember.”
I nodded.
“That’s okay.”
Godfrey laughed bitterly.
