but sometimes. Mila thinks about that for a second, then nods, goes back to her homework. Lorraine opens the fridge, just to look at it.
The shelves are full. Milk, eggs, bread. Real bread, not just the heels. She stands there for a moment. Hand on the door, eyes closed. Then, she whispers, so quiet that Mila doesn’t hear it. Thank you, Denise. Our continue reading …
