Judge Monroe considered.
“Sustained as to any implication beyond the document itself. Ms. Chen, proceed carefully.”
“Of course.”
Grace removed the policy from the screen.
Victor exhaled.
A tiny victory.
He believed.
Then Grace displayed the premium payment history.
The policy had remained active until six weeks after the fire.
Then Victor cancelled it.
No explanation.
I watched him.
He would not look at me.
For twenty years, I had excused every sharp edge of my marriage.
Victor was ambitious.
Victor was stressed.
Victor had grown up poor.
Victor was afraid of losing everything.
Victor did not know how to express affection.
Victor had watched his father fail.
Victor was not cruel, exactly.
Just driven.
That is what people do when they love someone who hurts them slowly.
They become translators.
They turn cruelty into stress.
Neglect into ambition.
Control into concern.
Silence into exhaustion.
And by the time the dictionary becomes impossible to maintain, they have forgotten the original language.
