I tell him I can help, that I’ll do anything he asks to get the kids out of her care.

“No. You stay out of it. Stay far away from this mess. This is between my family and me. In fact, block Gabby’s number. Block Anneliese’s number. Do yourself a favor and leave them all behind. My kids will be fine, I promise you. But for both our sakes, don’t entangle yourself in this any further. If I need you, I’ll call you.” I acquiesce, my fingers so tight around the phone that they’re turning red.

Before he hangs up, he thanks me. He says he’s heard a lot about me from the kids. That I’m a good person. But as we say our goodbyes, I want to say that I’m not, remind him that I’ve been enabling a horrible deed.

And then, before I can think about it, I’m doing it, blocking Gabby’s number, blocking Anneliese’s number, expunging them from my life just like I’ve expelled my contaminated clothes.

The ball of fury, though, the one I had tried to eject earlier, is growing, searing my spine, my eyes, clenching up my muscles. How dare she. How dare she. It’s one thing to hurt me, to lie to me, but the kids. The kids belong in the softest underbelly of my heart, tucked in safe and sound. And now I’m complicit in their mistreatment. Now she’s burdened me with that guilt.

Before I know it, I’m punching my wall, pain I can’t even feel until the throbbing starts, my hand bloody and blue. Inside the tiny gap I’ve made in the plaster, I can see all the way through to a metal pipe, a Peeping Tom hole boring into the very structure of this pre-war building. I suck on my knuckles. I haven’t felt like this since after my dad died, when I broke all the plates in his apartment.

Then, I’m taking a clonazepam myself, the one pill I took from the kids’ vitamin container, and it’s not until my eyes are heavy, my muscles loose and lulled with the prospect of sleep, that I stop shivering.

That day I sleep for sixteen hours, waking to the cool blue of dawn. It’s telling, a fresh start. The wall still sneers at me, a thin frown of disapproval. I know I should plaster it up. But the physical manifestation of my anger is as mesmerizing as it is frightening, so I decide to leave it alone, at least for now.