“Stop that,” I said.

“I’m not going to sit in this kitchen and watch you take a punishment that belongs to your father.”

She set the bag on the counter and wiped her face with the flat of her hand.

He had called her Tuesday, she said, and used the crying voice, and she had heard it in her head at work all day like a song she couldn’t shake.

“You gave a code to a man who told you he was sleeping in his car,” I said.