Then another. Marjorie opening the kitchen drawer.

Another.

Marjorie reaching into Olivia’s purse.

Another.

Marjorie walking toward the front door.

Derek’s breathing became shallow.

He flipped the photographs over.

Each one had a date and time printed on the back.

Not just one incident.

There were twelve.

Twelve separate entries.

Twelve times Marjorie had entered their apartment when Olivia wasn’t home.

Derek’s first instinct was denial.

It was always his first instinct whenever Olivia said something negative about his mother.

Maybe the pictures had been taken out of context.Maybe Marjorie had a key.

Maybe Olivia had given her permission.

Maybe—

He stopped.

His spare key was on the table.

His old spare key.

The one he had thought he’d lost months ago.

Derek slowly picked it up.

He remembered losing it.

Or rather, he remembered telling Olivia that he had.

It had happened in January.

He’d come home after a long day and realized the key wasn’t on his keychain.

Marjorie had been visiting that afternoon.

When Derek asked if she’d seen it, she’d laughed and said, “Honey, you lose everything.”

He’d shrugged.

Olivia had looked at Marjorie.

Not angrily.

Not suspiciously.

Just quietly.

Derek had mistaken that silence for jealousy.

Now he wondered what Olivia had known that he hadn’t.

His phone buzzed again.

MOM CALLING

He stared at it.

This time, he answered.

“What did you do?”

Marjorie immediately began shouting.

“Finally! I’ve been calling you for twenty minutes! Where are you? What did that woman tell you?”

Derek closed his eyes.

“Mom.”

“What?”

“Did you go into my apartment?”

A silence.

It lasted only two seconds.

But it was enough.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Did you?”

“I have a key.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Marjorie’s voice hardened.

“I am your mother. I don’t need permission to enter my son’s home.”

Derek looked down at the photographs.

His fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

“Did you take Olivia’s bank card?”

“I borrowed it.”

“You stole it.”

“I did not steal anything!”

“You used her card without permission.”

“She is your wife!”

“So?”

“So her money is part of this family!”

Derek’s face went pale.

“Her money is hers.”

Marjorie laughed.

It was an ugly, incredulous sound.

“Listen to yourself. You’re talking like that woman has hypnotized you.”

Derek didn’t answer.

Marjorie continued.

“She has been filling your head with nonsense since the day you married her.”

“Mom.”