While I applied for jobs and was told, kindly, that no one could ever trust a thief near a register — they knew.

When Lily was sick and I could not afford to take her to a private clinic — they knew.

When the rain came through our roof and ruined the only good clothes we owned — they knew.

When I carried a stranger’s mattress two miles down a dirt road in July because I did not have twenty dollars for a man with a truck—” Her voice cracked all the way open.

“They knew.

Every day of it.