“Did you go through my desk?”
Michael glanced at it.
“No.”
“Then why is the drawer open?”
“I don’t know.”
Linda crossed her arms.
“I was looking for a pen.”
I turned to her.
“In a closed desk drawer?”
“I needed to write something down.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
The younger officer glanced between us.
“Ma’am, do you want to check whether anything is missing?”
Inside the top drawer were envelopes, spare chargers, receipts, and a leather folder containing copies of insurance documents. Then I faced Michael.
“How long were you planning for me to stay outside?”
He looked offended by the question.
“I wasn’t throwing you out forever.”
“My clothes were in the hallway.”
“I needed you to understand that things couldn’t keep going the way they were.”
“What things?”
“You coming home whenever you want. Working every weekend. Making decisions without talking to me.”
