My Grandmother Found Me And My Daughter In A Shelter—Then Asked Why We Weren’t Living In Our House On Hawthorne Street

didn’t wait to see what else would be said. I collected Laya from the private room where she was finishing Frozen and we left with Evelyn.

In the car, Laya leaned her head on my shoulder, already half-asleep.

“Grandma?” I whispered. “What happens now?”

Evelyn looked at me in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were tired, but determined.

“Now,” she said, “we continue reading …