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chapter 12

Day three.

Ryan left at seven. One car.

I cleaned the kitchen. Made the bed. Did laundry.

Groceries were done yesterday. Nothing left on the list.

So I dusted.

Baseboards. Shelves. The picture frames Ryan didn’t have.

At noon I ate. Bread. Cheese. Water.

The house made noise without people.

Fridge humming.

Clock ticking in the hall.

Pipes when the neighbor ran water.

At three I sat at the window.

Watched cars go by. None stopped.

At five I started dinner.

Chicken this time. Roasted. With the leftover potatoes and green beans from yesterday.

Ryan came home at seven. Same as always.

He hung his jacket. Washed his hands. Sat.

I put the plate down.

He ate.

I stood at the counter. Ate half of mine.

"You’re quiet," he said.

I looked up. "Am I supposed to talk?"

He studied me. Knife and fork paused.

"Yesterday you said the same thing to Ivan."

My hand stopped.

I didn’t answer.

Ryan chewed. Swallowed. "He mention me? To you?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"I don’t know him."

Ryan nodded. Like I confirmed something.

He finished eating. Stood. "Office."

He left.

I washed the dishes. Dried them. Put them away.

At nine, the locks clicked.

I checked the doors. Deadbolt. Deadbolt.

Checked the windows. All shut.

Went upstairs.

Ryan’s office light was on. Door cracked.

I heard him on the phone.

"No. She doesn’t know him." Pause. "I’m sure." Pause. "Handle it."

The line clicked.

I kept walking.

Got in bed.

Stared at the ceiling.

She doesn’t know him.

Handle it.

I closed my eyes.

Day four would be the same.