Becca laughed. “This house used to belong to my parents. They gave it to me as a wedding gift.”

“Most people get toasters. They must be loaded.”

“They bought it a long time ago before it was worth anything. We put a lot of work into making it special. It’s your home now. For as long as you want to live here.”

Ash thought about those early days, before Christian moved out, when Ash would do everything she could to push Becca’s buttons, getting fucked up all the time, coming in late, acting like a total shithead. She thought about all the fights between Christian and Becca, the hushed tones and his insistence that Ash was going to ruin things. She remembered when he’d packed his bags and Becca shrugged. “It’s not about you,” she’d promised. Ash knew that wasn’t entirely true, but she’d been thrilled. At last someone wanted Ash. Becca picked Ash. She wondered if Becca was regretting that decision. She wouldn’t blame her if she did.

Ash followed Becca inside, where they were given a heroes’ welcome by Freud. Ash gave him a pat on the head, dreading what came next.

“Kitchen table. Now,” Becca ordered. Ash shuffled over, and sank into one of the dining chairs. Becca settled down across from her. The only sound was the steady hum of the refrigerator.

“I want you to answer yes or no to my question,” Becca began. “Do you still want to be my daughter?”

Ash’s mouth quivered, her hands furiously patting Freud’s head. “I know I screwed up. It’s cool. I’ll go anywhere you want to send me.”

“Damn it, Ash, answer the question. Do you still want me to adopt you?” Becca said.

“Yes. Of course, I do. You know I do.”

“I thought so. After what occurred today and you almost relapsing, I’m not so sure. Maybe being here, being with me, isn’t what’s best for you.”

Ash could see how much this pained Becca, and it killed her. “That’s not it. I swear to you…”

“That’s not how it looks,” Becca replied.

“Why are you asking me this?” Ash said softly.

Becca pushed her phone across the table. “I received this text today.”

Ash scanned the text message, her eyes narrowing. “Faye signed the papers?” Ash asked in disbelief. For months, Ash’s birth mother, Faye, had put them both through hell, sending Ash all kinds of shitty e-mails, alternating between begging for forgiveness for the years of abuse and telling Ash she was a worthless brat. When Ash didn’t respond to her messages, she started harassing Becca, demanding money in exchange for signing over her parental rights. Ash wasn’t sure why Faye gave in. Probably something to do with a guy, but the reason didn’t matter. Ash was finally free.

“So I’m going to ask you again. Do you want to be an Ortiz? The decision is yours.”

Ash couldn’t believe this. “I thought you were going to freak out and lose your shit. I know I screwed up today.”