The Cookie Tin That Saved Me After I Called My Mother Disgraceful

planner. Not an app. Just a notebook with a pen clipped to the cover.

She looked up at me like she’d been waiting.

“You’re up,” she said.

“I didn’t sleep much,” I admitted.

She slid the notebook toward me.

On the page, she’d written a list in careful handwriting.

1. Call your sister.
2. Get your identification and paperwork in order.
3. Find work—any work.
4. Eat three continue reading …
   

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