In that space between sleep and consciousness, four rat feet scurried across six-year-old Jeffy Moffett’s blanket bringing him upright in bed. Dirty light pushed its way through a small window next to the ceiling and into his basement bedroom, reassuring him the long night had ended. Daddy’s heavy footsteps and loud voice filtered down through the floorboards and beams. With every footfall, dust spiraled into the shafts of light, leaving trails of brown whispers. He waited until the footsteps carried Daddy into the kitchen for coffee and breakfast before stirring from his bed.

Jeffy felt the dampness of the concrete foundation walls as he pushed back the covers and lowered himself to the cold floor. The stumps, where his legs should have been, prickled like needles in his skin. He quickly pulled himself back under the warm blanket, rubbing the skin on the end of his stumps to stop the…