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“So you checked yourself out of Logan’s?” I ask in disbelief, locking the door behind me. “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

She scoffs, turning to face me. “Of course not. If it were up to you, you’d have me locked in that stuffy place forever.”

Stuffy? “Ma, they have a whole ass menu for each meal you get to choose from, a community center full of activities you can do, and a garden. That place is far from stuffy.”

Especially for how much I pay for it.

She shrugs it off. “Are you going to show me around? I thought you’d be happy to see me, but you look miserable. Go put some pants on and give your mother a tour.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to think of what to do. Shoulders slumped, I guide her to the couch and sit her down. “Stay here. I’ll go change and be right back.”

She smiles at me, squeezing my arm. “I’ll be right here.”

I break records putting clothes on because I don’t trust her out there alone. How did she get here? She has no money. No bags. No clothes. It’s impossible for her to walk here. And I don’t even understand how she got my address.

When I walk back to the living room, Mom isn’t on the couch where I left her. Instead, I find her in the kitchen going through every cupboard and cabinet. “I told you to sit still.”

“You have no food here. What do you eat?” she asks, opening the fridge and shaking her head. “It’s no wonder you’re so skinny. I want to make you a grilled cheese.”

Those fucking grilled cheeses.

I’m still in awe she’s here, standing in my kitchen and frowning at me. “I’m supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow. I’m fine. Ma, I need to know how you got here. Is there a taxi outside waiting to be paid? Uber?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she muses, rubbing my arm. “I asked someone for a ride. He was very sweet. We talked all about you.”

She—“That’s fucking dangerous! He could have been a serial killer. You could have been trafficked. Is he still out there?” I walk over to the window facing the street and look down.

“He was eighty years old, and his granddaughter was in the backseat. It was fine. He recently lost his wife, and this is the first time he saw his granddaughter in years. He was so nice.”

I don’t even know what to say right now.

She moves on like this is any other day. “How about we go out to eat? I could use some good coffee. I’ve been drinking sludge for months and I hate it.”

I blink. “Ma…”

“What? Don’t you want to go out with your poor momma? I haven’t eaten all day. I need food before I get as skinny as you.”

Christ.Christ.“Just give me a minute, okay?” I dig through one of the drawers she hasn’t opened yet and pull out a granola bar. “Eat this to tide you over.”

She accepts it with a frown. “This is just nuts and fruit. I don’t like nuts. And the fruit is always dry.”

“Well, it’s all I have.” I grab my phone and find the contact I need before dodging into my bedroom and closing the door.

When Pam picks up, I don’t even let her greet me before speaking up. “Why didn’t you tell me that my mother signed out of Logan’s?” I ask the head nurse, my voice nothing but a harsh whisper. “And why thehelldid she just show up at my apartment with nothing? She hitchhiked here, Pam. Like it’s the goddam seventies.”

She sighs. “We tried contacting you, but you didn’t pick up. We thought it might have been because of your recent injury. I left you a voice message, but I couldn’t hold her. That would be a wrongful imprisonment charge waiting to happen.”

“You didn’t—” I look at my voicemail and see the unopened message. How did I miss that? It’s from early this morning. “I never saw it. I didn’t even hear my phone ring.”

I drop my head back and cuss.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I did try. You can drop her back off and we’ll readmit her. But you’re going to need to sign new forms that would prevent her from being able to do this.”

Why didn’t I sign them to start with? “Don’t you think we could have avoided this if you’d given me that form the first time around?”

Before she can reply, there’s a knock at the bedroom door before Mom pops her head in. “Is it time to go get food? This granola bar is horrible. Who are you on the phone with?”

Not wanting to start a fight, I lie. “It’s a friend, Ma. Think about what you’re in the mood for and I’ll take you. Okay? I’ll be out in a second.”