FOR THREE MONTHS, I SMELLED SOMETHING ROTTING BESIDE MY HUSBAND—BUT HE SWORE NOTHING WAS THERE

photographs.

Children. Thin. Wearing worn clothes. Standing in front of a small, unfinished building.

In one of the photos, there was a handwritten note on the back: “San Pedro Community School – Cebu.”

I frowned. Cebu? Why Cebu?

Daniel had mentioned traveling there before, but never in detail. Never like this.

Confusion replaced fear. At least partially.continue reading …