Chapter 1
“Call your donors. Let them see who’s begging now.”
Russell did not hand me the phone.
That was his mistake.
His second was looking at our mother.
Doreen sat in the padded chair with soot streaked across her formal dress and pearls. For the first time since I entered the room, she would not look at me.
I held out my hand again.
“Phone.”
Russell tightened his grip.
“It’s private.”
I almost smiled.
“You filmed my three-year-old son hungry and filthy.”
Arthur stood behind my bodyguard with the bread roll clutched in both hands.
Still not eating.
That bothered me more than the soot.
A hungry child who has learned not to eat when food is available has been taught something.
I looked back at Russell.
“Nothing on that phone is private anymore.”
He finally surrendered it.
The camera app was still open.
Forty-seven videos.
Arthur crying.
Arthur reaching for food.
Arthur sitting beside an empty plate.
Arthur with soot on his cheeks.
Some filmed today.
Others from the previous two weeks.
My breathing slowed.
Not one moment.
A campaign.
I opened the latest message thread.
RUSSELL: He’ll cry harder if we wait another ten minutes.
UNKNOWN: Good. I’ll add fifty.
RUSSELL: Fifty thousand?
UNKNOWN: Fifty if Doreen gets him asking for Serena.
My entire body went cold.
Another message arrived while I held the phone.
UNKNOWN: Is the boy ready for the live appeal?
I looked at Russell.
“What live appeal?”
He said nothing.
Doreen finally whispered:
“Serena.”
“No.”
My voice remained quiet.
“You don’t get my name until I know why strangers are bidding on how hard my son cries.”
Arthur looked at me.
“Mom?”
I turned immediately.
He was watching the bread.
“Eat.”
His eyes widened.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
He took the smallest bite imaginable.
Something inside me broke.
Then Russell’s phone rang.
The screen displayed:
MERCY TABLE.
Not one donor.
A group.
May you like
Twelve members.
And my brother had been sending every one of them videos of my child.
