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.

”

“Neither do I.”

“I don’t want Rachel rewarded.”

“There it is,” I said quietly.

His eyes flashed.

“What?”

“That’s the second thing. Not the first.”

He pushed away from the table.

“You think I should just hand my daughter to her?”

“No.”

“Because it sounds like you’re defending her.”

“I am not defending what she did.”

“Then what are you doing?”

I looked toward the continue reading …