My daughter, I now knew, spent her afternoons doing homework and softening stale bread in hot water.

“And the eighteen hundred dollars for the laptop?” I asked.

“She spent it.” “On what?” “Clothes.” “Where are the clothes, Mom?” A pause.

“She probably hid them at a friend’s house.” And then I asked the question that changed the temperature of the call.

“How much money have I sent you this year, Mom?” Her tone shifted instantly, all the fluency going out of it.

“Why are you asking?” “I’m doing a financial audit.