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.

if the sound had reached through the wood and touched some part of her that had been asleep for years.

“Is that her?” she asked.

I tightened my grip on the knob.

“No.”

It was a ridiculous answer.

A lie so obvious that it fell between us like a stone.

Rachel lowered her head.

“I’m not asking to take her today,” she said. “I’m asking for a chance to do this continue reading …