It was Wednesday, March 10, and the second Sarah exited the bare-bones bathroom of the dilapidated motel off Highway 5, she knew she had screwed up royally. “Jade?” she called, knowing it was useless, because it was clear Jade had split. The front door was ajar, and an early-morning breeze whipped into the room, causing the droplets of water from the shower to chill on her skin. She wrapped the towel tighter around her as she crossed the room and closed and locked the door. Small good it would do now. Sarah’s legs were feeling wobbly, so she went to the bed and sat. Charlie, her ancient calico cat, hopped onto her lap and started purring. The tenderness of his warm, furry comfort made her want to weep. She didn’t. It was a luxury Sarah couldn’t afford. She needed to take stock, regroup, and figure out what to do next.

Thank God she had brought her purse into the bathroom with her. Otherwise, her car out front would probably be gone too. The room had been tossed. The thin mattress of the bed had been pushed off the box spring, and the yellow manila envelope that contained Sarah’s stash of cash was gone. How did Jade know where it was? Sarah had waited until Jade had gone into the bathroom the night before to slip it under her side of the mattress. She figured it would be safer underneath her while she slept than in her purse. The girl must have cracked the bathroom door open and watched, laughing to herself.

Sarah exhaled, shook her head. She should have known better.

Strange how one small random act of kindness could produce such a lousy outcome. As Sarah sat there, her hand on Charlie’s vibrating body, her mind was flooded with “if onlys.” If only she hadn’t gotten off that exit ramp to grab a bite at that coffee shop just outside of Portland, Oregon. If only she had said yes to that extra cup of coffee. If only it hadn’t been raining. If only she had parked on the other side of the parking lot.

But she hadn’t.