Page 101 of When a Soul Cries

I looked at Halo.

Then at the milk.

Then back at the sandwich.

Slowly, I put it back.

“I ain’t that hungry anyway,” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anybody else.

The lie sounded pathetic even to me.

Halo cried louder.

I shifted her against me and kept moving.

By the time I reached the register, my nerves were stretched so tight I felt like the smallest thing could snap me in half.

The cashier started scanning.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Every sound made my stomach tighten.

Halo twisted against my chest.

“Shh, baby,” I murmured, bouncing her gently while pressing my cheek against the top of her curls. “Mama got you.”

“Twenty-one forty-six,” the cashier said, glancing up at me from behind the register.

My heart sank even though I’d already tried adding everything in my head.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded bills I’d counted so many times the edges had gone soft.

Twenty-three dollars.

That was everything I had.

I handed it over.

The cashier gave me back three dollars and some change.

I stared at it in my palm.

Three dollars.

The motel wanted money tomorrow.

Halo would need diapers soon.

I needed another job.

Transportation.

A miracle.