Two days before Christmas, I saw her at a bus stop with a baby pressed to her chest. She was shaking so hard her teeth clicked.
“I missed the last bus,” she said. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
I should’ve kept driving. But my two girls were in the back seat, watching.
“Get in,” I said. “Just for tonight.”
At home I gave her soup, a hot shower, and the guest room. She said her name was Mara. That was all. She didn’t ask for money. She didn’t even ask for a ride.
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