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

“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.”

I felt a cold run down my back.

“Since when…?” I asked with difficulty.

Hue hesitated.

“Since I left the hospital.

I felt something burning inside my chest.

One month.

A whole month had passed.

A month in which I thought my wife was being taken care of.