Part 1My Generous Support, My Starving Son

I'm busy with a project abroad, so I leave my six-year-old son, Anthony Lynch, in the care of my father-in-law, Stephen Shenton. I send him 2,000 dollars a month for living expenses, with additional money for holidays and special occasions.

Every time Stephen video-calls me, he tells me Anthony is eating and sleeping well. On camera, there are always fish, shrimp, and beef in front of him.

So, when his homeroom teacher, Davina Walker, calls me and says Anthony fainted from hunger during PE class, my first thought is that she called the wrong number.

I fly back home overnight and rush straight to the hospital. The doctor tells me that Anthony has been suffering from long-term malnutrition. He's severely underweight for his age and is also showing serious signs of stress, with suspected autism.

Davina frowns, looking at me with a hint of reproach. "Mr. Lynch, this isn't the first time Anthony has fainted from hunger in class. He only brings one piece of cold bread to lunch every day. Sometimes, he doesn't even have that. Every time I ask him about his situation at home, he refuses to say anything."

I'm completely baffled by Davina's words. How could my son possibly be going hungry with the hefty monthly stipend I give him?

* * *

After seeing off my son's homeroom teacher, Davina Walker, I returned to the hospital room.

On the hospital bed, my son, Anthony Lynch, was sleeping peacefully. His small body was nestled in the oversized hospital gown, and his lips were pale.

The doctor told me that he wasn't just suffering from low blood sugar. He was moderately anemic, had damage to his stomach lining, and several of his health indicators were below normal.

Malnutrition this severe couldn't have been caused by missing a meal or two. He had been going hungry for a long time. On top of that, the doctor found multiple old bruises on his arms, back, and thighs.

The doctor subtly asked me if Anthony had ever been physically punished. My mind went completely blank. He has always lived with my father-in-law, Stephen Shenton. Could he have been abusing Anthony?

But the moment the thought crossed my mind, I found it hard to believe.

For the past six months, I had video-called them at least three times a week. Every time the call connected, I would see a spread of hearty dishes in front of Anthony, including fish fillet, barbecue ribs, and baked shrimp.

Stephen would always point the camera at the dining table, repeatedly showing me the food as if he were afraid I couldn't see it clearly.

"Malachi, look, I made barbecue ribs for Anthony. He's a picky eater. He'll only eat food I make. Don't worry, he's been eating really well. He just finished a big plate of food."

Sometimes, I'd notice that Anthony was quieter than usual. When I asked if he was happy at school and if he missed me, he'd just look down and say nothing.

Back then, Stephen would always laugh it off and make excuses. "He's just gotten a little distant from you. You can't blame him. After all, you've been away for over half a year.

"Boys are like that. They're forgetful and easily distracted. Once you're back and spend a few days with him, he'll be fine."

Whenever that happens, I'd feel guilty and work even harder. I had done all this to provide Anthony with a better life and let him grow up without ever having to worry about anything. But it seemed that he wasn't doing so well.

I called Stephen again. The phone rang for a long time before he finally answered. "Malachi, what is it?"

It was noisy on his end, and I could faintly hear children laughing in the background. "Stephen, Anthony passed out at school. Did you know about that?"

There was a brief silence on the other end of the call before Stephen's gruff voice came through. He questioned, "What? What on earth happened? How is the school looking after him? Did that PE teacher make him exercise too much?"

He quickly shifted the blame to the school, using the same excuse as before.

"Ms. Walker said Anthony only brings one piece of bread for lunch every day. Stephen, what's going on?" I asked, my voice turning colder.

Stephen was silent for a few moments before sighing. "So that's why he passed out. Malachi, you have no idea how picky Anthony has been lately. I prepare proper meals for him every day, but he refuses to take them. He insists he likes eating bread.

"And if he refuses to eat my food, I can't just force him. He'll learn to eat what I give him after he goes hungry for a couple of meals. As for the malnutrition, it's probably because he's growing too fast. Maybe his body isn't absorbing nutrients properly, which is why he's gotten so thin."

His explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, but the more I thought about it, the more holes I found in his story.

Even the pickiest six-year-old couldn't possibly survive on nothing but bread every day for months. Even if Anthony refused to bring a packed lunch, Stephen could have contacted the teachers or found a way to prepare proper food for him.

Instead, he stood by and watched as Anthony went hungry to the point of fainting. Besides, Davina had clearly said that the school contacted his grandfather first.

That meant Stephen was lying.