Her clothes are mismatched but her shoes don’t have holes in them. Healthy feet are especially important when you’re on the streets—or so I’ve learned over my endless hours here. Eyes that used to hold so much light look up to meet mine. They’re glassy and vacant but kindness still flickers in them along with the softened smile she gives me.

I force my own smile because seeing her like this is always the toughest part. “Hey, Maggie.” I don’t call her Mom. I learned that lesson the hard way years ago. Most days she doesn’t know who she is let alone the fact that she was a mother. Other times she knows it but not the specifics. Both are devastating to me. “I thought you might want some food.”

“Who told you that?” she barks at me, her eyes flickering around the space. Paranoia owns her most days.

“The director.” I motion across the room. “She knows you don’t like to stand in line with all the “smelly” men as she calls them, so she asked me to bring this to you.”

It’s brief but I see a flicker of relief in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Do you mind if I sit for a minute?”

She grabs her bag to her chest and hugs it tightly as she eyes me like a thief wanting her goods. “Why?”

“Because my feet hurt and I thought you might want someone to talk to.”

“You can sit. But I don’t want to talk.” She stoops her head low and whispers, “The voices might hear if we do.”

The voices who took you from me.

I nod as I slowly take a seat, careful that any quick moves will put her on the defensive so that she might act out or run away.

It’s happened before.

Each time with her is a new lesson to learn. A new set of rules her mind has conjured up but that no one else knows the answer to.

Once seated, I glance at her hands. They are clean for the most part so I hold close to the fact that she’s able to wash somewhere at least.

“Eat. Please,” I say.

“Did you do something to it?” She narrows her eyes at me, her voice loaded with skepticism. “Did they tell you to bring it to me so that I’d get sick?”

“No, ma’am.” It’s me, Mom. Jase. Can you see me? Do you know it’s me somewhere lost in your mind? “It’s the same food everyone is getting only I gave you a little extra because I know you like the biscuits and fruit.”

The things she can store in her pockets and save for a later time.

“Thank you.” She takes a few bites and then sets down the fork as if she’s waiting to make sure I didn’t just poison her.