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.

said, “What if she calls her Mom?”

I looked out at the library doors.

“She might someday.”

He inhaled sharply.

“And what do I do?”

“You breathe.”

“That’s your advice?”

“It’s the only thing that works every time.”

He gave me a look.

I smiled.

He almost smiled back.

Then he said something I will never forget.

“I used to think good parents never let their kids get continue reading …