I had been sending 1.5 million pesos each month to my mother to take care of my wife after childbirth.

“Hue,” I repeated, this time firmer. Why are you eating this?

She lowered her head.

“No… it’s nothing,” he whispered. I was just a little hungry.

I felt something inside me begin to break.

“Don’t lie to me!”

My voice echoed in the kitchen, louder than I intended.

Hue was startled.

The baby, who was sleeping in the next room, made a small sound, but fell silent again.

Breathed hondo.

“I send you money every month,” I said slowly. A lot of money. Mom is here to take care of you. There is food in the house. So why are you eating this?

Hue pursed his lips.

For a few seconds he said nothing.

Then, finally, a tear fell.

“Because…” his voice was barely audible. because that’s what they let me eat.

I felt the world stop.

“What…?”

Hue closed his eyes.

“Your mother says that after childbirth a woman should not eat too much. He says that if I eat good things, my milk will become “too strong” for the baby.

My mind went blank.

“So… she keeps the good food,” Hue continued in a trembling voice. He says it’s for you, because you work hard. And for her… because it is greater.

My throat closed.

“And you?”

Hue pointed to the bowl.

“Sometimes he leaves me the remains.

I looked again at the rice in the bowl.

The thorns.

The heads.

Suddenly I remembered something.

Every time I called home, my mother said the same thing:

“Your wife is doing great. Eat a lot. Get plenty of rest.”