Chapter 3

"You weren't here these past few years, so I've been staying in our marriage home. The place was sitting empty."

"Marina had just graduated and had nowhere to land, so I let her move in."

I walked a slow circle through the apartment.

Everything I'd taken such care to arrange before I left had been dumped into the storage room, the cookware tossed into a cabinet in a chaotic heap.

The coats in the bedroom closet had been crammed into bags, crushed out of shape.

And Father's memorial portrait, which had stood on the living room cabinet, had been shoved into a drawer stuffed with junk, thick with dust.

I lifted it out with careful hands, wiped it clean with my sleeve, and turned a hard stare on Marina.

"Why did you touch my father's portrait?"

Marina shrank back, her eyes reddening in an instant, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Olivia, I didn't mean to..."

"I live here alone. Every time I walked in and saw a memorial portrait, it scared me!"

"It scared you, but you still moved in?"

"Enough!"

Carl cut me off, his voice sharp.

"Olivia, it's one photo. Do you really have to blow this up into some big principle?"

"She's young, she gets frightened. What's the harm in putting it away?"

"One photo?"

I let out a cold laugh, my eyes fixed on him.

"Say that again while you're looking straight at my father. Go ahead."

He fell silent for a few seconds, then his tone softened.

"All right, don't be angry. This one's on me."

"I should have said something to you beforehand."

And with that he reached for my hand.

"You've been on a plane all morning, running back and forth to the office. You must be exhausted. Rest first."

"I've already made up the spare room for you."

I froze for a moment, wondering if I'd misheard him.

I pulled my hand out of his, and when I spoke, my throat had gone tight.

"You want me in the spare room?"

There was a flicker of impatience under his eyes, but his voice stayed coaxing.

"Tomorrow I'll switch you back myself. Just give Marina tonight."

"Carl! Don't push this too far!"

My chest was heaving.

"This is premarital property my father left me. It has nothing to do with you."

"I'm not giving anything up, and I'm not letting her stay another night."

I raised my eyes, glanced at my watch, and turned to Marina.

"It's eight now. Before nine thirty, I want you out of my home."

"Otherwise, I'll charge you with unlawful occupancy."

"Olivia, so now you're drawing lines between what's yours and what's mine?"

Carl tossed the towel onto the couch and looked at me coldly.

"I'm only doing it now. You've been doing it all along."

I didn't look at him. I took gloves and a mask out of a drawer and walked into the bedroom.

I threw every one of Marina's things out.

Then I hung up my own clothes, piece by piece.

Marina stood rooted where she was, at a loss.

It wasn't until I hurled the last item out that she rushed over, scooped it into her arms, tears falling in fat drops.

Her whole face crumpled as she looked at me.

"Olivia, I know you're angry, but you can't just throw out the keepsakes my grandmother left me!"

I watched that pitiful little display of hers, wiped my hands with a look of pure dread.

"You were scared of my father's portrait, so of course I'm scared of your grandmother's keepsakes too!"

"So there's nothing to do but throw them out."

Marina had no comeback. She began stuffing her things into a suitcase one by one, and turned to the grim-faced Carl, her voice catching.

"Mr. Greer, I'm sorry for the trouble."

"I'll go now."

Thunder cracked, and the rain came down hard.

Carl snatched up his car keys and strode for the door.

I watched his retreating back and asked.

"Where are you going?"