“Before you speak with Maya,” Mrs.

Ortega said gently, “there is something you need to understand.

Your daughter may be afraid of you.”

That hurt worse than any accusation my mother had ever made.

“Afraid of me?”

Mrs.

Ortega opened a folder of social worker notes from previous years, and showed me where Maya had told a counselor that her father became furious whenever any money was spent on her.

And it was true.