“Dad, stop the car!” he shouted, panic in his voice. “Those kids digging through the trash… they’re just like me.”

Eduardo couldn’t breathe.

—So he paid to have the other babies “die.”

Marcia continued through tears.

—I got them out of the hospital.

—I didn’t know what to do.

—I tried to raise them.

—But I had no money.

—When my husband got sick… I lost everything.

Eduardo remembered the pile of garbage.

The rain.

The cardboard boxes.

—Is that why you left them in the street?

Marcia closed her eyes.

—I knew you’d be passing by that street.

—Every afternoon.

—I was hoping you’d see them.

Silence returned.

Eduardo left the house without saying anything.