‘You moved them.’ It was not accusatory, not panicked, not sad. It was simply a statement of fact, which meant that she had been to the bathroom ...t some point and knew that the evidence had been moved. ‘If you mean your clothes,’ I said, ‘they’re by the washer. I’d planned to get them washed for you once regular electricity is restored.’ ‘What about a phone?’ ‘I’m sorry?’ Her question really surprised me. ‘My cell’s in the car, along with everything else in my purse. Are the phones. Then what? Maybe they didn't actually do anything. Maybe it was all in my head. I stepped closer to the bed and pulled the blue flannel sheet back and got my answer. There, on the bed, a small white blotch. A circle of dried cum and another and another. Three circles of dried cum, each one a different size. He had fucked her. Fucked my wife. Fucked her here in the bed we conceived our k**s. Shit, I didn't need a condom. I'd been fixed. He obviously didn't use one. What is in her now? How many. More

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