I looked up in horror. Officer Davis’s sympathetic face had hardened into ice. To a cop walking into a domestic dispute, it didn’t look like I was escaping abuse.

Thanks to my mother’s puppetry and Mateo’s terrified plea, it looked exactly like I had abandoned a starving six-year-old to save myself.

“Ma’am, please let go of the girl,” the male officer said — though his tone was noticeably less gentle with me than it had been five minutes earlier.

Lydia released me and stepped back, pressing a tissue to her dry eyes. “I almost fainted from the shock, officers. In my delicate condition… I don’t know why she’s doing this.

I give her everything.”

“Mom, stop it,” I said, my voice shaking. “Let go of him. You’re hurting him.”