It happened on a Tuesday. A completely unremarkable day. Milan had soccer, Madison refused her lunch unless I cut it into a heart shape, and I was racing against two looming deadlines before 3:30 PM.
Running on cold coffee and background noise from the dryer, I texted Adam to come pick me up from my mom’s.
Our Wi-Fi had been down, so I was working from her place while she kept Madison busy with finger paints.
The car was new—well, new to us. We bought it about six months ago. A sensible little sedan with that fresh plastic smell and all the hope that comes with it.
