3
The police station sat at the far end of the alley.
The moment I walked in, the officer on duty looked up. "Comrade, what can I do for you?"
I didn't waste words. I reached into my shirt, pulled out the creased marriage certificate, and slapped it down on his desk.
"Comrade, I'm here to report a crime." My voice was level.
"I'm reporting my husband, Bob Stephens, for bigamy and misconduct!"
The young officer sat up straight, picked up the certificate, thumbed through it, then looked back at me. "This Bob Stephens you're talking about, is he the one who lives at 3 Maple Lane?"
"Yes." I nodded, my face flat.
"That's him!"
He frowned, as if he doubted me.
Bob had always had a good reputation.
And the officer had never heard that he'd been married before.
"Take your time. Lay it all out for me. You're certain Bob Stephens has committed bigamy?"
"I am." I nodded, dragged a stool over, and sat down across from him.
Then I told him everything from seven years ago, start to finish.
From the day Bob got his rural labor notice and vanished, to how I went in his place.
I didn't embellish, and I didn't hold anything back. I laid out each piece, one by one.
When I finished, his pen paused. He took off his cap and scratched his head. "All right, I've got everything you said down. I'm going to go verify it now. If it's convenient for you... you can come along."
"Fine." I agreed without a second's hesitation.
I'd spent seven years in Millstone Village. God only knew what Bob had told people about me in all that time.
I picked up our marriage certificate and went with him to the Stephens house.
4
By the time we reached the Stephens's door, the smell of cooking drifted out of the yard, and I could hear a child laughing and shrieking.
I knocked. Hearing the sound, old Mrs. Stephens came running out to open the door.
When she saw it was me, the enamel mug in her hand hit the ground with a clang.
"Vio... Violet?" The color drained from her face.
"You... how are you back?"
"My time in the labor assignment was up, so of course I came back." I stood in the yard and looked at her, my voice flat.
"What? You didn't want me to come back?"
She took a step backward and forced a laugh. "How could that be... I'm nothing but glad you're back. It's good, it's good, I'll go straighten up your room right now. You've been gone so long, the place has gathered dust..."
"No need to straighten anything." I cut her off, my voice cold.
"I came back today to make one thing plain. I know everything Bob's done these past years, and I want a divorce! As for the rest, you can explain it to the officer here!"
She froze, and only then noticed the officer standing behind me. She dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud.
"Violet! Violet, I'm begging you! Let Bob off, please! You report this and his job is gone, and he'll go to prison, Violet! You can't be this hard-hearted..."
She kowtowed as she spoke.
But there wasn't an ounce of softness left in me.
"Mother, do you have any idea how much I suffered in that godforsaken place in his place?" My voice shook a little, but I didn't cry.
"I almost got assaulted. I almost starved to death out there. Think about it, really. Who's the hard-hearted one here? And now you want me to let him off? Then who pays me back for seven years of hell?"
At that she collapsed on the ground and wailed. "I know I've wronged you... I know, I know it all... Violet, whatever you want, we'll give it to you. Take this house. Take every cent I've saved. Just spare Bob, all right? He's my only son... I can't watch him rot in prison!"
"I don't want any of it." I set my bedroll against the wall.
"All I want is justice! I went and did his labor assignment for him while he stayed home warm in bed with a wife and a child. Where in the world is anyone handed a bargain like that? He has to pay for what he did!"
Maybe my voice was too loud, or maybe old Mrs. Stephens's wailing was.
Bob, who'd been inside playing with the child, finally heard the commotion and pushed open the door.
The next second.
He went rigid, frozen on the steps as if he'd turned to ice.
"Violet? You... you're back?"
