I photographed the broken mirror.
The split frame.
The chipped wooden rose.
Every section of shattered glass.
Then I photographed the holes in the walls.
The damp bathroom floors.
The soaked bathmat.
The water stains.
My hands trembled so badly that several pictures were blurry.
I took them again.
Then I called Claire.
She answered almost immediately.
“Nicole?”
“He destroyed the house.”
Her voice changed.
“What happened?”
“There are holes in the walls. Every faucet was running. And my grandmother’s mirror…”
My voice broke.
“He smashed it.”
Claire became very businesslike.
“Don’t clean anything yet. Document everything.”
“I’ve taken photographs.”
“Good. Now record a video of the entire house. State the date and time while you’re recording.”
“Okay.”
“Photograph the water meter if you can.”
“I will.”
Then she paused.
“Nicole, do not call Brian.”
I looked at his name on my phone.
That was exactly what I wanted to do.
