I listened to the water running in the bathroom sink.

Through the window, I could see the security light shining on the detached garage.

Daniel had spent three hours out there on Sunday, moving heavy storage boxes behind his workbench.

He claimed he was organizing old tax files.

My reflection in the dark window glass looked small and tired.

I had accused him of hiding a house purchase based on a downloaded worksheet I barely understood.

The plumbing hummed behind the wall.