They were not there because of the locks. Desmond had filed a report from Reno at six in the morning claiming I had stolen his vehicle and emptied accounts belonging to him, and the older officer said all of this in the flat voice of a man who has heard a lot of six a.m. telephone calls. I invited them into the kitchen, made coffee, and put three things on the table. The deed with one name on it. The bank statements showing every account predated the marriage. And the text message with the photograph of him under the neon sign at three in the morning, timestamped, holding a marriage certificate dated the previous afternoon.

The younger officer read the text twice. Then he said the word bigamy out loud, and the older one put his cup down. Desmond had not filed for divorce. He had not even mentioned one. He had married Priya while legally married to me, and he had documented it himself, with a photograph, because he wanted me to feel small enough to look at it.