I send my mother 1.5 million pesos monthly for my postpartum wife. Coming home early, I found my wife eating spoiled rice with fish heads. Furious, I confronted my mom, who sneered, “She doesn’t deserve better.” Then, I checked the family safe and found…

what about you? What did she give you?”

A broken, breathless laugh escaped Hue’s lips—a sound utterly devoid of humor. “Me? She told me the bottom of the pot is enough for a woman resting in bed. Leftovers from three days ago are enough. The bones… the bones are enough to make milk.”

I let go of Hue gently, standing up. I turned my back to her and walked continue reading …