Chapter 3

2 weeks later

11 288 (Vouchers

Tap, Tap, Tap. I look up and see a man tapping on my car window, his flashlight shining in the window of my car before he moves it around, looking in the back of it. I put my hand up when the torch flashes across my face blindingly. He quickly moves it to the side.

“Ma’am, you can’t stay here,” the middle–aged man tells me; he must be council security because of his uniform. My son, who I decided to name Valarian, stirs, the bright light waking him, and he lets out an irritated cry. The man moves his torch away entirely, shining it at the ground, and Valarian stops.

“Look, I have noticed your car here for nearly two weeks; this is a train station,” he sighs as I pick up my son out of his fruit box bed and roll down the window a bit so he doesn’t keep yelling, thinking I can’t hear him.

“You really have no place to go, no family?” he asks.

“No, the council kicked me out of the park,” I say matter–of- factly.

He runs a hand down his face before glancing around the parking lot.

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“The baby’s father?” I shake my head, knowing that wasn’t an option. He didn’t even believe me, refused to see me even when I begged him to let me on his territory so I could show him the scan. Every other time, he hung up the moment he heard my voice, after a while, I gave up.

are people out there that would take him, then you could probably go home.”

am not abandoning my baby like my parents did me,” I tell him, outraged he would even suggest

up you could have a normal life. Something to think about. I will give you another week to find

the blanket up over both of us before trying to get comfortable. A single tear runs down my cheek as I

groan; it is pouring with rain. It is still early. I rummage through the back for my umbrella before slipping my

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bucket in one hand and pop the

extra care not to slip on the wet ground. That would be disastrous. Once I get into the disabled toilet, I jam the bucket in the sink, filling it with warm water before shimming my pants down to pee. One thing I hated about being homeless was holding my son while going to the bathroom. I couldn’t place him down anywhere, making it

to my wagon. I set my son

myself a wash. Longing for a shower, gosh, I miss showering, something I definitely took for granted. I would use the rest stop ones occasionally, but I had

me out, I had a small amount of savings. I also worked at the Chinese Restaurant on the main drag while pregnant to keep saving. But now, since he was

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with buying baby clothes and non- perishable food. My car looked like a mini supermarket, and I am starting to get low on the formula again. Rummaging through my wallet, I

back; I tried that. My parents weren’t an option, and his father wouldn’t even let me on pack territory when

not the young ones that hadn’t even reached puberty. So with a

A tear slips down my cheek, and I check my phone, yet I know I will find no missed calls. My

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once more.

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