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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.

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That sentence hung there.

Heavy.

Clean.

True.

Rachel nodded.

“You’re right.”

Then she looked at Emma.

Only for a second.

But it was enough.

“I’m not asking her to love me today,” she said. “I’m asking for the chance to earn whatever place is safe for her.”

Jackson laughed once.

There was no humor in it.

“Safe?”

“I know.”

“You left her.”

“I know.”

“You left me too.continue reading …

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