David spent the next evening scrolling through a week of saved security footage. A disturbing pattern emerged with clarity. Every single dish that originated from his mother’s kitchen ended up in the outdoor trash within twenty-four hours of arrival. Nothing store-bought or ordered from restaurants was ever thrown away.
He opened a blank note on his phone, typing out a grim inventory. “Soft cheeses. Cold cuts. Tuna casserole. Sunday’s beef stew.” All of it vanished by the following evening, completely untouched. “What is she doing?” he muttered to himself, staring at the growing list of rejected meals.
He tried desperately to find a common thread that tied the list together, but failed. It wasn’t a matter of expired food, as he had checked the freshness dates himself. It wasn’t that Renata disliked the recipes or had allergies; she had happily eaten versions of these exact dishes many times before. He closed the app, utterly baffled.