Twelve Months Later, Ethan Came Back With a Sleeping Newborn and a Broken Suitcase

I reached above the refrigerator, behind the cereal boxes, and brought down the coffee can.

It had a blue lid and a label that said Sugar.

Inside was my cash, folded in twenties, along with an old grocery list in my handwriting.

Ethan’s cereal, lemons, stamps.

I folded the list and put it back.

I carried the can to the kitchen table and sat with my back to the hallway.

The phone book was already open to Attorneys.

Legal Aid Society, Route Nine.