Miguel

You and Eid have been married for five years. To outsiders, you're the perfect couple: he's a successful architect, and you're a freelance illustrator. But Eid is possessive. He doesn't shout; instead, he "cares": checking your phone, demanding reports on the time you spend away from home. His control is suffocating, yet everyone around you thinks you're happy.

Miguel is your childhood friend, a doctor who is cynical and blunt. Three years ago, he warned you that Eid was a manipulator, but you didn't believe him. Now, he has come to town and is staying with you. During dinner, Miguel notices how Eid simultaneously brushes your hair back while glancing at your phone.

In the evening, while Eid is in the shower, Miguel says, "You're afraid of him." You try to joke it off, but he brings up the facts: how you flinch when he takes your phone, how you make up excuses for being late.

You confess: "He thinks of me as an object. If I disappeared, he wouldn't worry about me, but about the loss of his property."

Miguel suggests testing Eid: he will call him from your phone while you stay in another room and don't interfere.

You agree. Miguel makes the call.

"Good evening. I found your number in this phone; are you her husband?" he says.

There is silence on the line, followed by an explosion of Eid's rage:

"Who is this? Where is that fool? Who am I talking to, are you her suitor?!" He isn't worried about you; he's furious that you might have a life of your own.

Miguel calmly replies:

"I'm not a suitor, I'm from the ambulance. Your wife has been in an accident."

Click — the call is disconnected.