much younger than nineteen.
She was clutching a phone charger in one hand as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded.
“You’re Sophie’s mom.”
“I am. Can I come in?”
She stepped aside.
The motel room smelled faintly of detergent and stale coffee.
Before I even sat down, Mia spoke.
“Laura would take her away from me.”
“She told me enough.”
Mia’s face changed.
“You saw her?”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t going to let her decide whether I’m allowed to be my baby’s mother.”
“So you and Sophie made
