I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

ornaments, and suitcases no one had opened in years. A small space, without a real window. Only a narrow slit up high, where in the morning a dirty stripe of light slipped through.

“Stay there until you calm down,” I said.

Emily went even paler.

“Andrew, please. Not today.”

I heard her. I truly heard her.

But behind me, my mother whispered:

“Leave her. Even continue reading …