At My Mother’s Funeral, a Woman Slipped a Baby Into My Arms and Said, ‘She Wanted You to Have Him’
“It’s up to you,” I said, meeting her gaze. “We’ll do check-ins and a plan. You’ll show them you’re stable. I want to help, not hurt.”
She wiped her nose, nodding fiercely. “I’m going to get him back. I have to.”
I smiled, just a little. “We’ll be here. He’ll be here. You’re still his mom, Carly. That doesn’t change because of a piece of paper or a bad season.”
“I want to help, not hurt.”
She looked at me for a long moment. “You really mean that?”
