The refrigerator was empty. My wife’s hands were trembling. And upstairs, my daughter was livestreaming her new designer bag, bought with the money meant for food. “Dad won’t do anything,” Mia whispered to her boyfriend.

medical reports, and recordings from the party itself.

Mia turned toward me in fury.

“You set me up!”

“No,” I replied. “You built this yourself. I simply stopped protecting you from it.”

Her mask finally shattered.

“You were never here!” she screamed. “I deserved something!”

“You deserved love,” I answered. “Not permission to destroy your mother.”

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