I must’ve mentioned this to Kimmie several weeks ago, back when she was texting me nonstop and I had to explain to her why I didn’t have my phone with me at all times. Swallowing hard, I think about how big of a difference this would make to Sophie, how much better it would be for her to feel as though she can reach out to Ma and Pa whenever she wants.

“Adam, I don’t think we can take it. It’s too much, I—”

“Yes, you can. It’s not even a new phone, but I got my first paycheck for the play last week, and I just… wanted to do this.”

I notice the way he’s holding his breath, praying that I’ll reach out and take the bag from him.

“Sophie’s upstairs,” I say, nodding toward the door. “Why don’t you come up and give it to her yourself?”

He shakes his head. “You should tell her it’s from you. It’ll mean more that way. I—”

“Come on,” I say, and without another word, I pull the door open and lead the way up the stairs.

Sophie and Amy are still sitting on the couch. Their eyes widen when they see Adam walking into the apartment behind me.

“Sophie, do you remember Adam?” I say.

“Yeah,” she answers in a small voice. I only ever invited Kimmie and Adam over for dinner a couple of times. A part of me was a bit embarrassed to let them into our home—to have them see how cramped life was inside our old apartment. Now, I feel a bit stupid, not just because Kimmie and Adam never commented on any of that, but because I miss that apartment more than anything. If I could go back, I would invite them over more often. I would let my friends into my home, into my family, and not think twice about it.

“He brought something for you.”

Sophie’s eyes travel down to the bag in Adam’s hand. Frowning a little, she gets up from the couch and comes toward us.

“Here you go,” Adam says softly as he hands her the bag.

“What’s this?” Sophie asks, peeking inside.

“A cell phone,” I say.

She stares up at me with wide eyes, and then she pulls the phone out, her mouth hanging open as she holds it up in front of her. “But Ma and Pa said I couldn’t have one.”

“That was last year. You actually need it now.”

She nods, clutching the phone against her chest. Staring at Amy, who’s remained very still on the couch, I see that she’s pressing her lips together. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s holding back tears.

“Why don’t you try calling Ma and Pa?” I say to Sophie after we’ve connected to Jorge’s Wi-Fi. “See if it works?”