Page 2 of My Girl to Use

She signed her name. Not Mom. Her name, like I’m someone she used to work with.

That’s all of it. No date. No father. No number. Nothing about who fed him last or when. I read it once. Then again. And again. My ears start ringing.

“What does it say?” Amelia asks.

I swallow hard. “It’s…from my mom.”

“That’s not good,” Jess mutters.

“No,” I whisper. “It’s not.”

I look down at the baby in my arms. “She says…this is my brother.” My voice cracks. “His name is Levi.”

Jess lets out a harsh laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

Amelia steps closer. “Zora, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t even know she was pregnant,” I say, more to myself than to them.

“Okay, no,” Jess cuts in. “No, no, no. Whatever this is, it’s not your problem.”

I tighten my hold on him instinctively. “It is now.”

“Zora…”

“She left him,” I say, my voice shaking. “She just…left him here.”

“Call the police,” Jess says immediately.

My head snaps up. “No.”

“Yes. That’s what you’re supposed to do!”

“No,” I repeat, firmer this time.

Because what happens after that call? Somebody comes and writes things down. That’s what they do—they write it down, and they put it in a folder, and then the folder sits somewhere. I know exactly how much good that does. Nobody ever came for me. Not once, not in eighteen years, and I’m not going to stand here and pretend that this time the phone call works.

Amelia exhales sharply. “Zora, you can’t keep him.”

I look down at Levi. He’s quiet now. Watching nothing. Just staring at me. Almost in wonder. “I’m not giving him away,” I say.

Jess stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t. The three of us are already cramped in here. The landlord barely allowed it. We can’t have a baby live here too!” Jess retorts.

Then Amelia chimes in, “Jess is right. Besides, I did not sign up for a kid when I got this apartment with you. My work is stressful enough. I don’t need to have a baby crying in my ear every day and night.”

“I’ll figure something out,” I reply.

“With what money?” she shoots back. “With what time? You work full-time!”

“I’ll make it work.”

The room goes silent. Levi shifts slightly in my arms, letting out a soft whimper. Instinct takes over. I rock him gently, my hand cradling his head. The motion is automatic—a year ofdaycare shifts living in my hands, doing the thinking for me while the rest of me catches up.