“Where are your shoes?” Jess asked, putting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway. Not that it mattered; Jess wouldn’t turn back for them. She’d give up her own shoes first.

Jamie looked down at her dirty feet and frowned. “Oh… I’m not sure.”

It took intense effort for Jess to focus on driving safely. She was so furious, so disappointed, she was afraid to even open her mouth. A glance in the rearview mirror reassured her that Juno was watching Lady and the Tramp on Jess’s iPhone, eyes heavy with exhaustion and headphones firmly in place. With any luck she’d be asleep before they were even on the freeway.

The miles passed in tense silence as they headed toward Jamie’s apartment farther inland—a new address since only a handful of months ago.

“You didn’t have to come,” Jamie finally said, clearly trying to smooth things over by sitting up pin-straight and enunciating. Jess was very rarely mad at her. Her mother had forgotten holidays, mostly missed her high school graduation, and outright lied to Jess about her sobriety more times than she could count, but Jess always let it go. Jamie was her mom. She didn’t have any other choice.

But right now, Jess was so tired. “You asked me to come get you.”

“I could have called an Uber or something in the morning.”

“You said you were in trouble.”

“I did?”

Jess exhaled a slow, calming stream of air. It wasn’t worth getting into it. “You said you’ve been sober for eighteen months, so what are you doing drinking at Ann’s?”

“I had one beer.” Jamie let out a curt laugh and turned toward the passenger window. “Of course, to you that ruins everything. You’re always so quick to judge.”

“I’m not judging. I’m upset that I have a hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of groceries in my trunk, including frozen stuff that’s probably ruined. I’m upset that I dropped everything, and instead of having my daughter asleep in her own bed, I had to drag her to some drug party, and you can’t even be straight with me. What’s going on? How on earth did you get in trouble with the police?”

“It’s a stupid misunderstanding.”

“With who?”

“Skin Glow,” Jamie said. “I ordered some product to sell. But now the owner says she’s going to press charges if I don’t pay her. It’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to pay her for product I haven’t even sold yet?”

“Product?”

“Some creams and serums, vitamins. That kind of stuff.”

“So, you bought stock on credit, and pay it back from the profit, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah.”

“Mom, I’m sure all of that is in the terms of whatever agreement you signed to buy it.”

Jamie shook her head. “When I went in for the consult, they said I’m really good at sales, and should come in at the Blue level. It’s a really big deal to be told that, trust me, and Trish understood that I was taking on a lot of inventory.” She lifted her chin. “But I had a lot of people who wanted to buy the stuff, and a lot more who are interested in buying, they’re just waiting to get paid.”