The next few months were very hard. My mom worked two part-time jobs, cleaning hotel rooms and working at a warehouse. She came home smelling of bleach and exhaustion. My sister, who was only eleven, had already learned to cook rice and do the laundry. We never talked about being broke; we just understood.
Then, my mom got a phone call from a woman named Mireya. She was starting a community group for single parents and had heard about my mom from Mrs. Danika. My mom didn’t want to go at first. But Mireya’s voice was warm and kind, and it convinced her.
