That’s neglect.”

Richard took a slow step down the porch, his eyes fixed on Linda’s right hand, which was buried deep in her sweater pocket.

“You told me this morning that Camila wanted to take the car to go clothes shopping.”

“She didn’t say where she was going,” Linda replied, her defensive tone sharpening to a knife edge.

“Someone in this house has to keep some structure while Ethan is out of work.”

“Structure doesn’t mean starving my son,” Ethan said, his chest heaving as he stared at his mother.