Leah
Liam’s text arrived at seven-thirty-two.
I was in the school drop-off line with Bella in the back seat, wearing a cardigan buttoned wrong and a pair of socks she had informed me were “cousins, not twins.”
Maya and Diego are still safe. Victor is still being held. Her attorney is pushing the violation and weapons issue this morning. No action needed from you. Just information.
I read it twice after the line moved.
No action needed from you.
That was a sentence I did not know how to trust yet.
Bella leaned forward between the seats.
“Mommy,” she said, “are we moving or are we living here now?”
“We’re moving,” I said, pulling forward.
“Good, because I did not pack my toothbrush.”
She chattered the rest of the way to the curb about a class vote on whether the tooth crown should
