I was bleeding through my pad, rocking my tiny baby in a no-cost shelter room

Four weeks passed, and everything blew up over thirty bucks.

Ethan walked inside from the garage space, and I asked, “Could you hand me $30 to buy some formula?”

He let out a chuckle. “Where did all your saved cash go?”

“You promised to provide for us, Ethan.”

“Not for everything,” he shot back sharply.