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I don’t know what I’d do without them. I really don’t.

It feels like another lifetime ago that I was about to leave for college, when Lincoln and Maverick and I were together all the time.

I know now how fragile life is, and how thin the line is between getting through the day and falling apart completely.

Linc shifts in my arms and makes a small sound. I press my lips to the top of his head and breathe him in. He smells so good.

When I go to the refrigerator to get something to eat, it’s bare. I don’t want to go anywhere, but I can’t let my milk supply get low. There’s no way I can afford formula. I drive to the grocery store and then opt for carrying Linc with his blanket wrapped around him instead of taking the carrier in. I keep my eyes on the floor as I walk into the store. I don’t have the energy for looks today.

But when I turn the corner, I nearly run into the last person I expected to see.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

Maverick’s eyes go cold, but then he looks at the baby, and he blinks . . . like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“I thought you’d be at school,” I say.

His mouth twists, and he glances back at me. “Came home for spring break.”

I can barely keep track of what day it is now that I’m home with a newborn.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says. “Thought you’d be at home or work. Wouldn’t have come if I’d known.”

“Ironwood is too small to avoid each other forever,” I say, my voice shaking.

He looks at Linc again, and when his eyes meet mine again, my heart pounds harder. It’s like we’re strangers.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he says.

Something inside me cracks. “Why are you being like this?”

His eyes flicker for half a second. Pain, maybe. Or regret. It’s gone too fast to be sure.

“Just stay away from me, Iris,” he says, storming away.

I stand there, frozen. Linc whimpers, and I realize I’m crying right there in the aisle.

I get bread and eggs. I don’t remember paying or the drive home.

When I get back to the trailer, I can’t stop crying. I sink onto the couch, Linc on my chest, and let my head fall back, tears streaming into my hair.

My mom grabs her purse and keys. “I’m going out,” she says. “Jesus, Iris. You’re a mess. Pull it together.”

She slams the door as she leaves. Linc startles and lets out a sharp cry. I rock him back and forth until he settles again. I’m wiping my face with my sleeve, my head pounding, when there’s a knock at the door.

I freeze.

For a second I consider pretending I’m not here. Then the knock comes again—gentler this time. I open the door a crack.

Evelyn Harrington stands on the step. She’s holding a gift bag in one hand, her other tucked into the pocket of her coat. She looks nervous, which is unlike her.

“Oh! Evelyn! Hi,” I say.

“Hi, Iris,” she says softly. “I hope this is okay. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“No, it’s fine. Please. Come in.”

She ducks inside, and I motion for her to have a seat. The gift bag rustles as she sits on the chair by the couch.