Patricia flinched as though he’d struck her. “Excuse me? Are you suggesting I neglected her? I raised three children of my own, Daniel. I know how to handle a tantrum.”

I adjusted the phone so the lens was centered on her.

“You left a first-grader in a public transit area,” I said, taking each word one at a time. “Unattended. No water, no bathroom, no way to reach us. For five hours.”

Patricia’s face set into something like pride. “She was fine.”

Beside me, Mia flinched.

That flinch did what none of my accusations had. It cut Patricia’s strings.