The refrigerator was empty. My wife’s hands were trembling. And upstairs, my daughter was livestreaming her new designer bag, bought with the money meant for food. “Dad won’t do anything,” Mia whispered to her boyfriend.

“Daniel?” she whispered.

I rushed toward her. “What happened?”

She tried to smile, but it looked painful. “You were working. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Something cold settled in my stomach.

I opened the refrigerator.

Nothing.

No groceries. No leftovers. No milk. No fruit. The shelves were practically bare.

The pantry wasn’t much better. One stale box of crackers. Expired vitamins. Nothing else.

Then I heard laughter upstairs.