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.

Jackson laughed before he could stop himself.

Rachel smiled at the sound.

Then she handed him a sheet of paper.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Just what we did. Times. Bathroom break. Snack. She bumped her knee on a chair at 10:42 but didn’t cry. I wrote it down.”

Jackson stared at the paper.

It was exactly the kind of thing he would continue reading …