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

“You’ll regret this.”

Dad didn’t turn around. “She’ll regret staying,” he said.

In the car, Dad buckled Evan into the seat with the same careful hands as earlier. Then he looked at me, really looked.

“Do you want to go to my place?” he asked. “Or your sister’s? Or a hotel tonight?”

I swallowed hard. “Your place,” I whispered.

Dad nodded. “Okay.”

As we drove continue reading …