Paul stared at Hope like she might somehow save him.
Instead, I grabbed the diaper bag and my keys.
“I’m taking Hope to the clinic,” I said. “And when I come back, you need to be gone. I called you here to see if you had any shame.”
I didn’t even look at her.
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“Jodi…”
“I mean it. If you’re still here, I’ll tell the police you withheld contact from a missing child’s mother.”
That got him and Amber moving.
***
At the clinic, Dr. Evans checked Hope over and told me she looked healthy, just a little underweight. She asked careful questions. I gave careful answers. I showed her the note, the supplies, and the jacket.
She asked if I had any family support.
I almost laughed.
“I have coffee and my work colleagues,” I said.
She smiled sadly. “Sometimes that’s how it starts.”
“If you’re still here, I’ll tell the police.”
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***
By noon, I had temporary emergency paperwork from a social worker named Denise and three missed calls from Paul I deleted without hearing.
By two, I was back at the diner because mortgage payments don’t care about tragedy.
I brought Hope because Denise told me not to leave her with anyone I didn’t trust, and trust had become a short list.
