My mother simply whispered:
“Nothing is as it seems.”
I became angry.
“Then what’s really going on? He takes your entire salary and doesn’t even tell you what he spends it on.”
My mother looked toward the closed bedroom door.
“One day, you’ll understand.”
When I got married and moved away from home, I called my mother every week. Several times, I offered to help her open her own bank account, but she refused.
I began to think that she was simply afraid of my father.
The years passed. My father retired, but the strange habit continued. Every month, my mother placed the envelope containing her salary or pension in front of him. He would take it and lock it inside an old metal box.
No one knew what was inside.
Once, I even tried to open it, but my father grabbed my hand.
“Never go near that box again,” he said sharply.
At that moment, I became completely convinced that he was hiding something. Maybe he had spent my mother’s money over the years. Maybe he had debts. Or perhaps he was living a secret double life.
