“Hi,” I called out to her. Her eyes went wide and she looked in both directions as if searching for an escape. She started to pull her children in the direction of the bus stop. “Wait. You look like you could use some help. Can I help you?”

“No, we’re fine,” she said. Her voice shook. “Go away. Leave us alone.”

It was clear. She was terrified. She probably thought I was social services, coming to take her kids.

“Do you have a safe place to sleep tonight?” Annabelle asked as she stepped up beside me.

The woman ignored her and continued to pull the boy, still holding the baby, away. He wasn’t having it. He locked his legs and said, “Mom, wait.”

“Not now, Elijah,” his mother hissed. “Abigail needs—”

“Daddy’s gone and we have no place to go,” Elijah interrupted. His voice was wobbly, and he sounded so very tired. “Please just listen to him.”

My throat got tight. I knew this boy. I’d been this boy. I swallowed hard, blinked twice, and forced a gentle smile.

“Have you heard of the Sunshine House?” I asked.

The woman stopped pulling her son and nodded. “They help women and children . . .”

“When their spouse or parent has an addiction problem,” I said. I reached into my pocket for my wallet and she flinched. “I’m just going to get my card.”

Thank goodness I had one on me. I didn’t do outreach; in fact, I didn’t do anything with the Sunshine House except read their monthly report and cut them a check accordingly. I held it out to her. She looked from it to me to Annabelle, then she snatched it as if afraid I was using it to trap her. She looked at it and then me. Her gaze was suspicious. “You work for them?”

“Yes,” I said. I wasn’t about to explain that I was just the money behind the program. I felt Annabelle staring at me, but I kept my gaze on the woman. “We can help you. We’ll find you housing and get you some job training and child care. You don’t have to be trapped in this.”

She shook her head as if I were as dumb as a brick. “Don’t I? We were kicked out of our apartment yesterday. All this time I thought my husband was working, but it turns out he lost his job two months ago and he’s just been sitting in a bar every day, drinking. Everything we had, everything we worked so hard for, he just drank it all away.”

She broke down then, sobbing. I thought again that I might be ill. It was too much. I glanced at the boy. Tears were coursing down his cheeks. He was me. I’d lived his life, but I’d be damned if I’d walk away and leave him to live mine.