As Tonya rode in the front passenger seat with Layla squeezed beside her, she realized that every part of her understood. Her neck. Her back. Her thighs. She’d dragged both her and Layla’s mattresses into the truck, as well as suitcases and paper grocery bags overflowing with all the clothing and linens that they owned. One of her neighbors had offered to help with the couch, but she’d decided that the five-year-old piece of furniture wasn’t worth saving. The large storage facility was double the price of the medium. She couldn’t afford to house her sofa if she wasn’t sitting on it.

Layla’s head rested on her shoulder. She’d gone from screaming about the forced move to silent acceptance. Tonya brushed her daughter’s copper bangs from her fair forehead and kissed the center. Layla’s mask was covering her cheek.

“Where are we going to go?” Layla whispered.

Tonya turned her face to the open window, pretending not to have heard over the blasts of cold air. She’d been struggling with that question since they’d started driving. Her parents would take them in, Tonya knew. But fleeing to rural Pennsylvania meant disrupting Layla’s schooling. Her folks were probably some of the last people in America not to have high-speed internet. They owned cell phones with patchy signals and tended to call her when they were “in town” on an errand.

City hotel rooms were relatively cheap at the moment, Tonya knew. But that was for good reason. Sharing common areas and ventilation systems was dangerous nowadays, and the places that Tonya could possibly swing had given half their rooms to the homeless. She didn’t want to expose Layla to folks who’d been on the streets and may be suffering drug problems or mental health issues.

Moreover, she couldn’t afford a hotel room for very long. Even if Kelner expedited setting up another account on Layla’s behalf, Tonya doubted the money would materialize before the end of the month. In the meantime, she had a little less than a thousand dollars in her checking account, two hundred of which would be going to the storage facility for a one-month rental and administrative fee. She would run through her cash far before the school year’s end.

Tonya rotated her phone in her palm. Who did she know who might help? She had no one to crash with. Despite all her years in New York City, Tonya had never found a tribe that could relate to her working all day as a waitress and then happily rushing home to be with a kid. Women her age were all chasing their dreams, free of such “bummer” responsibilities. Her fellow school moms had always been significantly older, richer, and not exactly enamored with the idea of commiserating with a single young woman. At some point, Tonya had stopped trying to find female friends. Layla had been friend enough.