He also knew our story.
That morning, I had enough money for groceries, bus fare, and electricity.
Then Emma walked into the kitchen too carefully.
I looked down.
“Emma, why are you walking like that? Show me your shoes.”
“It’s fine.”
“Lift your foot, Em.”
“Show me your shoes.”
She sighed and raised it.
The sole of her boot had split near the toe. Her sock was soaked through.
My stomach dropped.
“How long has it been like that?”
“It only gets wet when it rains.”
“It’s rained all week, Emma.”
My stomach dropped.
She shrugged.
“We’re buying boots today, girly. End of story.”
“I have money, Mom!” she said.
Emma hurried to her room and returned with a small beaded purse. She emptied birthday bills and coins onto the table.
“You don’t buy necessities,” I said. “You’re ten. I do.”
