I nearly dialed 911 on the tattooed teenager holding a screaming baby inside an empty 1 AM laundromat. Then his bag tore open, and my stomach sank with utter shame.

do the right thing?” he asked.

I smiled.

“You’re asking me now?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He was quiet.

Then he said, “Sometimes I still get angry.”

“You probably always will, a little.”

“Is that bad?”

“No. It means it mattered.”

He nodded.

“Sometimes Emma reaches for Rachel and it stings.”

“I know.”

“Then Emma reaches for me five minutes later, and I feel stupid continue reading …