Sophie hauled the heavy blue suitcase up three flights while I carried the smaller bag.

My right knee throbbed with every step up the steep concrete stairs.

The living room had just enough space for a narrow brown couch, a low TV stand and two metal folding chairs by the kitchen counter.

Sophie set my suitcase against the wall and opened her fridge.

“I’ve got half a carton of milk and four eggs, Mom.”

“That’s more than enough for supper,” I said.

She poured two glasses of tap water and put them on the little laminate table.