My dad saw me limping down the street with my baby and groceries and asked, “Where’s your car?” When I whispered, “His mom took it… said I’m lucky they let me stay,” Dad didn’t argue. He opened the door and said, “Get in. We’re fixing this tonight

My suitcases were still half-unpacked from months ago, like I’d never let myself believe we belonged.

I grabbed Evan’s birth certificate from the folder under the bed, my passport, my Social Security card. I yanked a few outfits for Evan, his favorite blanket, diapers, wipes, formula. My laptop. Chargers. Prescription meds.

Downstairs, voices rose and continue reading …