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.

and fairness do not always arrive in the same car.

So I gave him the truth instead.

“I don’t know what will happen,” I said. “But I know who you are. And I know who Emma knows as home.”

He stared at the envelope.

“I hate her.”

I nodded.

“I know.”

“I hate her for walking away.”

“Yes.”

“I hate her for getting to come back clean and rested and prepared with papers continue reading …