The cabinets had been removed from the walls. The sink had been disconnected. The countertops were gone. Where the kitchen once stood, there were now only bare walls, exposed pipes, and the heavy smell of dust.
Marianne, his mother, was in the living room telling the relatives what a wonderful son she had.
— My David always knows who deserves to come first — she said proudly.
David smiled. That was when I walked in. He saw me, and for a moment, the smile froze on his face.
I slowly walked across the torn-up floor, stopped in front of him, and calmly asked:
— David, when you said that family comes first… were you talking about your mother? Or everyone except me?
His face lost all its color.
But everything had started three days earlier, in our bedroom, beside my open suitcase.
