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"Where are you coming from?" Adam asked when Bernice walked into the house late that night.

Bernice looked at her husband, taken aback by his question, "Me?" she asked as she looked behind her wondering who he was talking to.

"Do you see anyone else behind you?" Adam asked in annoyance.

"Well, you can't blame me for being surprised by your question since you mostly ignore me and act like I don't exist," Bernice said, but Adam's gaze remained cold.

"That doesn't answer my question. Where are you coming from by this time of the night when you left the house all morning?"

Bernice glanced at her wristwatch. It was just five minutes past eight, "It's not that late. Besides, I didn't realize I'm a prisoner in my house...."

"Make no mistake, Bernice. This is not your house. It is mine. Now you're either going to tell me where you're coming from by this time of the night, or you're going to return there to pass the night."