No Reason to Doubt

The woman said

we have no reason to doubt your account

and the line went quiet a moment

before she moved on.

Ninety seconds. The whole call.

I sat on the edge of the bed,

phone against my thigh, screen going dark.

A crease in the carpet

where the dresser used to be—

four dents, a rectangle

of darker pile.

She didn't ask me to prove it.

Didn't transfer me.

Didn't need another form.

She just said it

and moved to the next claim.

I sat there looking at the carpet,

the shape of something

no longer in the room.

For the first time in a while,

taken at my word.

I couldn't get up.