“This is my home. How can I be trespassing?”

Nina looked at Becca and raised her eyes as if to say, “You’re up.”

“Hey, Raya, you remember me. It’s Dr. Ortiz—”

Raya rolled her eyes. “Shit, Doc, just ’cuz I’m nuts don’t mean I got memory problems. I remember you.”

Raya’s sarcasm wasn’t enough to hide how terrified she was. “Can you tell me how you’re doing? Are you thinking of hurting yourself? Having bad thoughts like before?” she asked.

“No. I’ve been taking my meds. It’s just I don’t get my check ’til the end of the month, which means I got no money and no place to stay.”

Raya gnawed at her fingernails, all of them bitten to the quick. “I asked Mama if I could shower here, maybe rest for a few hours. She said no. She said I’m not welcome anymore.” Raya’s voice cracked, her hands gripping the picture frame even tighter.

Becca eyed Nina, the two of them in agreement. Raya wasn’t having a mental breakdown. She was articulate about her situation. She wasn’t in danger, and neither was anyone else. At least not today.

“Raya, I’m afraid if your mother doesn’t want you here, you can’t stay,” Nina said.

Raya’s eyes darted back and forth from Becca to Nina. “Where the hell am I supposed to go?” Raya asked.

There was no easy answer. The city was bursting at the seams with people who needed assistance. Addicts, the mentally ill, veterans struggling with joblessness and PTSD, even paroled inmates, were all vying for space in shelters and public housing. The lack of resources forced people to make difficult decisions. Tents were sprouting up all over the city as Los Angeles rents continued to climb. Becca was already racking her brain, trying to think of where they might take her.

“Raya, if you come with us, Officer Stanton and I will do everything in our power to find you a place to stay for tonight. After that, you and I can work toward finding you more permanent housing.”

Becca held her breath, praying they wouldn’t have to physically remove this young woman. She understood the trauma that would cause, her mind working out all the possible scenarios. Raya seemed to sense she was out of options. She took a longing look around and stood, setting the picture frame on the dining table. Now Becca could clearly see the photo, a Sears-style portrait, taken when Raya was a toddler, sitting on her mother’s lap, the two of them wearing matching red blouses and cheesy grins.

Her heart ached for this family. In the very next instant Ash flashed through Becca’s head, a family torn apart by things out of their control. This won’t be us, she promised herself. It can’t be.

“I’m ready. Can I get my bag?” Raya asked, pointing to a worn-out backpack lying near the door. Becca forced herself to focus, turning to Nina.

“I have to inspect the contents to make sure you don’t have any weapons or anything you might harm yourself with. Do I have your permission?” Nina asked.