Page 102 of When a Soul Cries

“Ma’am?” the cashier called again, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

I blinked and looked up.

The cashier was holding my grocery bag toward me.

“Oh.” I forced my mouth into something that probably didn’t even resemble a smile. “Sorry.”

I took the bag and pushed through the front door with my shoulder.

The sky had turned gray while I was inside.

Dark clouds hung low over the buildings, and wind whipped across the parking lot hard enough to toss hair into my face.

Halo’s crying grew louder.

“I know, Lo,” I murmured, shifting her weight against my aching hip.

I set the grocery bag down beside my feet and started digging through her diaper bag.

“Hold on, baby.”

Diapers.

Wipes.

Extra onesie.

No cup.

I moved everything around faster.

“Come on,” I muttered anxiously, digging deeper into the bag.

Halo screamed.

My hands started shaking.

“Please, baby,” I pleaded softly, trying to keep my own frustration from spilling over onto her.

I dug through it again even though I already knew it wasn’t there.

“Come on. Come on.”

Halo’s little legs kicked against my side.

“I know!” I snapped before I could stop myself.

The word flew out sharper than I meant.

Halo stopped for half a second.

Her big brown eyes widened.

The look on her face broke me instantly.

“Oh, baby,” I breathed, guilt washing over me.

I pulled her against my chest.