Chapter Thirteen
MILA
“Oh, Maize!” I laugh even though I really want to cry. She spits up on me for the third time today, and I’m starting to question why I even wear shirts around her now. “I hope you aren’t allergic to your formula or something.” I make a mental note to talk to John about it later so he can talk to her doctor—just in case.
It’s been just over a month since I’ve been taking care of Maize, and I still don’t know anything about her mother. I want to ask and find out where she is or why she isn’t in the picture, but John’s been distant and weird, and I feel like I’m in the way half the time when he’s home. I continue cooking him dinner every night after work, and when I stick around on those nights to eat with him, we sit in awkward silence or use Maize as a buffer. I’ll
