BONITA WAS AWAKE STILL. Worry was eating at her.
She had arrived home a little worse for wear, juggling single parenthood with post-graduate studies and a part-time profession. There were moments when she was tempted to ditch her employment but then there were bills to pay and a child to support—reality always bit into her musing of a simpler life.
Earlier that day, she had picked up Megan from childcare near their home. She pushed her in a stroller, their things stored in the undercarriage. To break their usual routine, she opted to eat out this time, although it was only a little past five in the evening.
They settled in a corner table.
‘What would you like?’ she asked the little one as she dusted bits of sand off her hair and face, a souvenir from the sandbox.
Megan eyed the cake c
