Chapter 1: The Uninvited Guest
“She’s eating with us.”
The words, spoken with the unshakeable authority only a twelve-year-old can muster, cut through the sizzle of the skillet. My daughter, Emma, stood in the doorway of our kitchen, a stranger trailing behind her like a shadow. She wasn’t asking for permission. She was daring me to object.
I looked down at the single pound of ground beef I was browning. Eight dollars. It was supposed to stretch into tacos for the four of us. Now, we were five. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach, cold and hard. It was the end of the month, that familiar, desperate stretch where every dollar was accounted for, and there were no dollars left to count.
“Mom, this is Zoe,” Emma said, nudging the girl forward.
Zoe looked like she wanted to melt into the drywall. She was swallowed by an oversized hoodie, a ridiculous choice in the sweltering ninety-degree heat, and her Converse were held together with mismatched strips of duct tape. She clutched a backpack that looked heartbreakingly empty, her gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum floor. She was a ghost in my kitchen.
My mind raced, doing the frantic math of a parent on the edge. More beans. More rice. Maybe a can of corn. If I chopped the lettuce finely enough, maybe no one would notice the meat was more of a suggestion than an ingredient.
I forced a smile that felt brittle enough to shatter. “Hi, Zoe,” I said, my voice unnaturally bright. “Welcome. Grab a plate.”
