Page 51 of Love and Other Lost Things

And then Jane’s eyes focused on the next words: The time of leaving can be a very dangerous period for victims of abuse. Most women who are murdered by their abusers are killed after they leave, not before.

Jane shuddered and closed the article. There was no way she was going to be able to do this alone. She needed help. Before she could lose her nerve, she dialed the number for the domestic violence hotline. A woman picked up on the first ring.

“Um. Hi,” Jane said. “I…” She looked at Scarlett for courage. “I need help leaving an abusive situation.”

The woman was very kind, reassuring. She said all the right things. It’s not your fault. You’re doing the right thing.

“We can house you and your baby for up to six weeks,” the woman explained. “From there, we can help you arrange transitional housing.”

“What is that?”

“It could look like a lot of things. Do you have any family who might be able to take you in?”

Family. Jane remembered Mom telling her not to send any more photos. “No.”

“Well, sometimes a spot opens up in one of the group homes. Or we can help you find an apartment share with another woman in our program.”

Jane clutched the phone tighter. “How would I pay for that?”

“Do you have a job?”

Jane stared at Scarlett’s tiny nose. Her eyes closed so peacefully. “No, I have a two-month-old baby.”

“We can help you with training and applications to find a job.”

“But…” A heavy weight dropped in Jane’s stomach. “What about my baby? Who will take care of her while I work?”

“There are childcare vouchers you can apply for.” The woman paused, and Jane could hear her shuffling through a pile of papers. “There is a waitlist, though.”

The weight in Jane’s stomach grew heavier. “So, what do I do? How do I start?”

“Are you in danger right now?”

Jane looked around the playground. “No. Not… right this second.” She heard more shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“We don’t have any beds open right now, but we expect to in a couple of weeks. Can you call us back then?”

A couple of weeks?

Defeated, she hung up the phone and headed home. Outside the club, she spotted Teddy arriving for his shift.

“Hey,” he called to her. “I’m sorry if I got you in trouble the other…” Teddy trailed off as Jane averted her eyes and kept walking.

A week later, Jane was heading home from the dry cleaners, Matteo’s cleaned and pressed shirts draped over the handle of the stroller, when she passed a man sitting on a bench in front of a storefront. Something about him was familiar. As he leaned over to take a bite of his sandwich, his thinning blond comb-over flopped on his forehead. The man quickly reached up and smoothed it back into place. He looked up to find Jane watching.

“Do I know you?”

The sign in the window read Morgan and Morgan, Attorneys at Law.

“I interviewed for a job here once.” She hesitated. “Well, not really interviewed. You just told me to go home.”

The man swiped at his mouth with his napkin. “Tough break, kid. You ever find a job?”

She pushed Scarlett’s stroller back and forth to rock her. “Sort of.”

Mr. Morgan nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. A blob of mustard slid down his chin. While he wiped it away, Jane looked over his head to the younger version of his face on the sign. No comb-over yet. And then she focused on the words beneath the photo. Free consultations.

When women left their husbands on TV, they always hired kick-ass lawyers. Mr. Morgan was an ambulance chaser in a rundown strip mall. Jane had absolutely no faith that he was a kick-ass lawyer. But, in that moment, desperation and this man were literally all she had.

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