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.

into his basket. I walked over and placed a hand over his.

“Jackson,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I have a big house. It’s very clean, and it’s very quiet. Too quiet.”

He looked at me, thoroughly confused.

“You bring Emma to me,” I told him. “Whenever you have a shift. Whenever you have to study for an exam. You bring her to my house.”

“I can’t continue reading …