She fled an eleven-year abusive marriage. They had a daughter. She took her with her.
Modesto might has well have been another country.
She responded to the right-hand star command.
She relapsed when she was exited from the shelter for smoking downstairs, while her child was upstairs.
Which was not allowed.
She had been warned.
She was reminded -- repeatedly -- that she was unworthy.
She did her best.
Finding the job, the car, the apartment. And yet ...
She was reminded.
She was not enough.
She wrapped her hands around the stranger's waist -- full chain.
Because she had to begin again.
Why not here?
Why not now?
She just needed that hand. That right-hand-star hand.