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Link shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Already got paid. If you want to, pay him back.”
“How much, Link?” She gritted her teeth.
“A hundred bucks.” He looked off to the side.
Doubt it. “Towing costs seventy-five alone.”
“Yeah, but you get the family-and-friends discount.”
She should be thankful—and she was. But knowing she owed someone else something was too heavy. She didn’t need special treatment or kid gloves. This was the life she had chosen and no one but her should deal with the burden.
“Send me the receipt and I’ll pay him back,” Jasmine said. “And thanks for helping me.”
Link nodded. “Take care.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Emma said to tell you hello.”
His eyes narrowed before he nodded. “Have a good afternoon.”
“You too.” Jasmine waved as he got in his tow truck and drove off.
* * *
Jasmine showered the grime and most of the paint from her body. A few flecks of light yellow clung to her hands and arms. She pulled out one of the two dresses she owned and smoothed it over her body. She would do her best to look like a respectable mother. The emerald-green sundress flared a little as she spun around. It was a little wrinkled, but it would have to do. Hopefully no one would notice the small black stain on the hem.
She slipped on a pair of flip-flops and grabbed her purse before heading downstairs. In the kitchen, she grabbed a juice box and bag of crackers to tide Zoey over, stuffing them into her bag before heading out to her car.
The drive to the preschool was short. She dug in her purse and pulled out a ChapStick that was who knows how old. Rolling it on her lips, she took a deep breath. Speaking up and creating waves was not her strong suit. It drew too much attention. But for Zoey, she’d do whatever she had to.
Jasmine took a deep breath and climbed out of her car, shoving her weight against the door until it creaked shut. She righted her purse and headed inside. She was buzzed into the main lobby. Turning right, she entered the office.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted the receptionist with a smile.
The woman seated at the desk gave her a scowl. Just her luck. Abby Tims—no, Abby Peters now. The woman who’d made her life a living hell all through high school. Teenager Jasmine’s payback had been to fuck Abby’s boyfriend, Jimmy, behind her back. The ultimate fuck you. Now Abby was married to him. A tinge of shame crept over Jasmine like a dark cloud. That was the old me.
“What do you want?” Abby snapped.
Jasmine swallowed hard and pressed on. “I need to talk with Miss Stevens if she’s available for a few minutes.”
“What about?” Abby turned her nose up.
“That’s between Miss Stevens and me,” Jasmine replied.
Abby huffed. “Fine. Wait over there.” She nodded to the empty wooden bench.
Jasmine took a seat, looking around the small room. The walls were filled with shelves of craft supplies and artworks in progress.
“Mrs. Evans?” Zoey’s teacher called a few minutes later.
“It’s still miss, isn’t it, Jizzy?” Abby said, throwing the old moniker at her like a slap.
Anger roiled inside her. But she tamped it down. Zoey was the reason she was here. “Yes, it is.”
“Oh, sorry. Miss Evans. What can I help you with?” Miss Stevens asked.
Jasmine looked between Abby and the teacher. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
“Of course. We can use the teachers’ lounge. Right this way.”
