My Stepfather Beat Me Every Day for Entertainment—Then He Broke My Arm, and the Doctor Called 911 After Seeing My Bruises

behind a loose vent panel in the living room, angled just right to catch most of what happened on the couch and by the kitchen doorway. Another one lived tucked inside an empty cereal box on top of the refrigerator, propped against the cardboard so the camera lens peeked out through a hole I’d cut myself with kitchen scissors one afternoon while they continue reading …