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

in photographs.

As we drove into a small town, I saw children running barefoot along the road, laughing, chasing each other under the sun. Simple. Free. Unaware of how much their future was about to change.

Then the car stopped. In front of a building. Not large. Not perfect. But new. Clean. Full of intention.

Above the entrance, a sign read: “San Pedro continue reading …