The day I stepped off the bus in Seattle, I hoped with every fiber of my being that my Philadelphia past was left behind me. I couldn’t guarantee I’d be off the streets yet; in fact, I was sure I had more nights on park benches and behind Dumpsters ahead of me. But at least I’d get see my little girl again. I’d get to make new memories with her.

It was on my way to my daughter that I met Adrian. A straitlaced history teacher who, according to his brother, had a habit of rescuing strays. Not that I bought the nice-guy act. Well, at first. His kind grins made me react weirdly. I felt it in my chest.