My pantry, taken through what appeared to be my kitchen window. The half-empty shelves. The timestamp on the photos was a Thursday afternoon, two days after a support payment had been reversed, which I had not yet been able to replace.
It also included a statement that the children had reported going to bed hungry.
Lily. He had gotten this from Lily.
I sat on the kitchen floor and thought about my daughter, nine years old, being asked questions by her father in a tone designed to produce the answers he needed, and I felt something settle into my chest that was colder and clearer than anger.
I called Ms. Patel that evening.
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