"I was very young when my mother told me about that book. It was called Unloved. On the cover there was a black-and-white photo of a crying boy in ragged, dirty clothes that were too big for him. My mother retold his story. The photographer came to the family, where parents abused their children, photographed the most neglected toddler, prepared a lavish social campaign and raised huge support for the poor of the city of London. Instead, the little one in the photograph, having become an image, was left alone with the inescapable cruelty of his own hell. The photographer did not come again.

Many years later, the abuse did not stop, but became more terrible. The boy survived. And grew up. Someone showed him, already an adult, that photo, told its story, and he, in turn, dared to write down his own"...