“Give me taxi money.”

That was the grim opening line of the morning in Georgio and Joy’s shabby home. The heavy atmosphere matched Joy’s pale face and swollen eyes as she returned from the damp bathroom yet again, worn down by relentless morning sickness.

Though reluctant and afraid, Joy couldn’t escape the obligation of facing police questioning. Since dawn, she had been up, forcing herself to get ready, interrupted by repeated trips to the bathroom to vomit what little she had ...