Joy’s soft voice broke the silence. “Gio? Are you asleep? I’m hungry…”

No reply. Georgio lay fast asleep in the living room, laptop open, screen black. It had been two days since their fight after Joy’s police interrogation. Two days of suffocating silence, speaking only when necessary, eating once a day—hard bread or canned beans.

Joy rose, clutching a cheap secondhand phone, and tiptoed to the damp, musty bathroom—the only place left with privacy.

Locking the door, ...