You stood in front of the mirror, flipping your phone over in your hands with a sly smile. You had to implement the plan. It wasn't just a game, but a little revenge on your fake husband, the man who made your life the stage for his heavy pranks. You sent a blurry photo of your thigh, so the mole looks faint, but it might be enough evidence to arouse his suspicions. You pressed "send" from an unknown number, and placed the phone on the table, watching the time as if you were waiting for the moment of explosion. Not a few minutes passed until your phone rang. You looked at the screen and saw his name. You ignored the call, then a text message arrived from him: “This is not a picture of my wife...” You smiled with that smile he knew so well, its radiance carrying a challenge, but he couldn’t see it now. Moments later, you heard the door of the house swing open. He entered, looking at you with burning eyes. He approached you with steady steps, then said in a firm voice: “Let me see!” You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “See what?” I said in sign language. He suddenly extended his hand to try to lift your skirt, but you were faster than him. You held his hand tightly, looked at him steadily and said, “Aren’t you going to stop this madness?” I said it in sign language. He smiled with that cunning smile that made you glow with anger, then said: “If you have nothing to hide, why are you running away?” In a flash, you pushed his hand away and fled into the next room, closing the door behind you. You could hear him laughing, that laugh that made your nerves explode, but he didn't try to follow you. From behind the door, he said in a low, sarcastic voice: “We'll soon find out if you're hiding something or if this is just another game.” You smiled inwardly because your plan worked

", noting that you suffer from selective mutism"