Leah
Maya left the apartment the next morning.
Not easily.
Not neatly.
But she left.
Carol called me at seven-thirty while I was packing Bella’s lunch and trying to convince her that three crackers and a cheese stick did not count as a balanced meal.
“It has dairy and crunch,” Bella said.
She stood at the counter in her pajamas with one sock on and one sock missing.
“That’s two food groups.”
“Crunch is not a food group.”
“It should be.”
“It really shouldn’t.”
My phone buzzed.
Carol.
I answered before the second ring.
“Maya?” I asked.
“She’s safe,” Carol said.
I closed my eyes.
Bella stopped arguing about crackers.
“She and Diego are with us,” Carol said. “Denise got her out around five this morning.”
I gripped the edge of the counter.
“How?”
“Victor came back to the b
