I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

any argument.

From the other side of the door, I heard only her broken voice.

“Don’t leave me alone with her house, Andrew.”

And beside me, my mother said quietly:

“Now she’ll understand where she belongs.”

That night, I woke up because of a thud.

Dull. Heavy.

Then another.

As if someone inside the pantry was dragging boxes, or falling and trying to get back continue reading …