The streets of Silverfield District in Eastbay City were already wet from the morning drizzle when I returned home, my heart heavy from a twelve-hour shift. Inside our apartment, the cries of my newborn son, Kai, pierced through the quiet air, relentless and shrill.

Anna Li, my wife, slumped against the corner of the dining table, her shoulders trembling, hair sticking to her damp forehead. “Mark… I… I tried feeding him… nothing comes out,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

I set down my bag, exhaustion and frustration mounting. “Anna, why isn’t he eating? How can he cry like this and you can’t help him?”

She shook her head, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. “I… I’ve eaten, I’ve tried everything, but nothing… I can’t produce enough milk. I feel so weak.”

My chest tightened. “Weak? Anna, you’ve just had a baby. You’re supposed to be recovering. You can’t keep letting him starve!”

At that moment, I heard the faint scraping of a chair from the kitchen. I froze. Something was off. I walked slowly toward the kitchen doorway and stopped dead.

Anna was crouched over a large bowl, hastily spooning cold rice into her mouth. Her hands shook, her movements furtive, as if she were afraid I’d see her.

“Anna… what are you doing?” I demanded, my voice harsher than I intended.

She jumped, nearly dropping the spoon. “Mark… I… I just… I was hungry… I didn’t want to bother you…”

I stepped closer, grabbed the bowl, and lifted it. The stench hit me immediately. The rice was clumped and cold, floating in a thin, cloudy broth with pale scraps of fish fat and small, gnawed bones. My stomach churned.

“What is this?” I hissed.

Anna’s face crumpled. “Mom… Mom said I had to eat leftovers. She said our family needs to save money. She… she told me that the fresh food goes to my sister because she’s pregnant. I… I tried eating, but it hurts my stomach. I didn’t know what else to do.”

I stared at her, disbelief and fury mixing in my veins. “She made you eat this? While Kai hasn’t had enough milk? And I gave her money every month to feed you properly!”

Anna shook her head violently. “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to tell you… She said if I said anything, she would send me back to my parents’ house…”

The bowl slipped from my hands and shattered against the tile. Pieces of cold rice and spoiled fat spread across the floor. I looked up just as the familiar hum of a motorcycle approached. Darlene Tan, my mother, stepped inside, humming, carrying a bag of groceries.

“Mark! Back early again? Did Anna break the dishes while being clumsy?” she said, her tone light as if nothing were wrong.