My MIL had a nasty habit of opening our mail. I thought she was just nosy until a strange phone call made me question everything. My husband and I set a little trap. What she said when she opened that envelope changed everything.
I picked up the envelope from the insurance company, and the whole bottom fell out.
Papers everywhere. One page sailed under the fridge.
Of course it did.
“What the heck?!”
I crawled after it, cheek on the tile. Something sticky grabbed my sleeve.
The bottom edge was cut. Straight. Clean. With scissors.
The bottom edge was cut.
Only one person I know opens mail like she’s performing a tonsillectomy.
My mother-in-law, Diane, and Julian Assange have one thing in common. They both believe information should belong to everyone. Especially when it belongs to somebody else.
The difference is, Julian never had a key to my house.
***
I’m Sarah. I’m twenty-nine, and I’ve been married to Evan for three years.
We own a house ten minutes from his mother. In hindsight, that’s nine minutes too close.
My mother-in-law, Diane, and Julian Assange have one thing in common.
At first I thought I’d won the mother-in-law lottery. She brought pie. She watered our plants. She kept a spare key “for emergencies.”
Then the emergencies started.
One morning I couldn’t find my coffee. I found it on the top shelf, behind the flour.
“Diane, why is my coffee up there?”
“You drink too much caffeine, sweetheart.”
Then the emergencies started.
Next went the cheese. Twelve dollars, imported, barely touched.
“Diane, where’s my cheese?”
“It expired tomorrow.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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