The girls had nodded dutifully, and waved, as Mimi drove away, honking the Impala’s horn until she was out of the girls’ sight. It would be the last time they ever saw their only grandparent.

Now Letty loaded a pile of linens into the wheelbarrow, plopped Maya on top, and trundled it out to the dumpster. After heaving the contents into the dumpster she unlocked her car and retrieved an armload of Maya’s things: her battered copy of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, a small pink plastic lunch box containing Maya’s crayons and coloring book, and the girl’s suitcase, which featured her favorite Disney character, Elsa, from Frozen. She glanced around to make sure she wasn’t being watched, then grabbed the canvas tote she’d taken from Tanya’s closet. She was already uneasy about letting that tote bag out of her sight, even inside her locked car.

“Let’s go for ride, Letty,” Maya said, climbing back into the wheelbarrow.

“Okay, but when we get back to the room, Letty has to work, and you get to play, okay? I’ve got your book and your crayons. Can you do that and be a good girl while I get our room cleaned up?”

Maya nodded vigorously, sending her curls shaking. “I’m a good, big girl.”

Letty dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You are the biggest, bestest girl in the world.”

By noon, she’d managed to clear debris from half the room, making dozens of trips back and forth to the dumpster, while Maya constructed a pillow fort from the least objectionable sheets and pillows Letty salvaged from the piles of rejected bed linens.

Tanya would have a fit, Letty thought, if she could see her daughter now. She’d become a major priss-ass after Maya’s birth, requiring that all visitors leave their shoes at the door, installing bottles of antibacterial soap in every room, refusing to let her daughter eat, touch, or play with anything that wasn’t certified organic.

But Tanya wasn’t here, Letty thought grimly. And germs were the least of their problems. She was hot and grimy, her legs and arms were aching, and her stomach was rumbling.

“Come on, ladybug,” Letty said, peeking down between the makeshift tent flaps at her niece. “Let’s get lunch.”

“Yay,” Maya said, scrambling to her feet. “Chicken nuggets!”

“Not,” Letty said firmly. “Salads. And fruit. And milk.”

“And cookies?”

“We’ll see.”

She was unlocking the Kia when Ava stepped out of the office and waved them down. “Y’all want some lunch?”

“Yes!” Maya answered.

“We were just going to go grab some groceries,” Letty said, walking over to the motel manager. “I meant to ask—where’s the nearest store?”