C18 18

“You’re not my friend, either. And I don’t know why no one’s told you this before, but you can’t just pick up strangers’ children.”

“Like I said, I’m not a stranger,” she says, all wide-eyed innocence. “We’re connected in one of the most important ways I can imagine.”

My head pounds, and my stomach threatens to eject the toast and coffee I managed to choke down for breakfast