Before Davis could answer, her shoulder radio crackled to life in a burst of harsh static. A voice cut through the living room, loud and clear.

“Unit 4, this is Unit 7 at the Elm Street residence. Be advised, we had to breach the front door. We have located five minors inside. Conditions are… deplorable.

The house is covered in animal feces and trash. We found a nine-month-old infant in a crib with a soiled diaper that looks a day old. The two toddlers were locked inside a bedroom from the outside.

No adults on the premises. Requesting two ambulances for medical evaluation of the infants. CPS is on scene.”

The color drained out of Marcus’s face like water down a drain. The reality of what he’d allowed — the squalor he retreated to his garage to avoid every night — was now public record.

“You left them alone?” Marcus whispered, turning slowly toward Lydia. “You left the babies alone to come after her?”