And then Rosie pulled that soft folded receipt out of her gown, and I knew — before Tess read a word, I knew — that I had misunderstood everything, that the father they meant had never been the one who left, and that the thing about to happen was not going to be something I survived so much as something that was going to take me apart.

Chapter 15 — What He Left Behind

“Our biological father wrote those words,” Tess said, “and he walked away.

He left three six-month-old babies in a tiny apartment above a hardware store.

He left us with a man who was twenty-seven years old, who had three hundred dollars to his name, and who had every reason in the world to hand us over to the state.”

Beside her, Frankie had her hand pressed over her mouth, already crying.