her to laugh. To pause. To breath. Skills she admitted she’d forgotten in the day-to-day stress and focus of building her career. Though thanks to her rambunctious nine-month-old daughter, those skills had recently been brought back into her life.

But Molly wasn’t in the business of hope. She was in the business of setting things to rights. It made her wish that she could set her own life in balance with as solid steps as she defended her clients.

She stared at Drew. She wanted to set things right for him too. The woman shook his hand, stood and headed toward the order counter.

“What kind of tears are those, Avis?” Brandie greeted the woman.

These four women seeking Drew’s help were not strangers. Not simply café customers either. Not to Brandie. And, Molly suspected, not to Drew.

“Drew says I can protect my child and place her up for a closed adoption without my ex’s consent.” Avis dabbed her fistful of tissues against her red-rimmed eyes. “Drew told me I have rights. I can choose what’s best for me and the baby. My rotten ex doesn’t get to choose for us.”

Molly noted the fading bruises on the woman’s arms and her barely-there baby bump beneath her yoga pants. The tightening in Molly’s chest expanded around her heart. She ached for the woman and her struggle. Becoming a new mom should be exciting, not terrifying. Molly wanted to embrace the woman too—one mother to another.

She also wanted to prove to Drew that he wasn’t alone either.

“Yes. You have a voice, Avis.” Brandie edged around the counter and wrapped Avis in an all-encompassing embrace. “And you have the support of your friends.”

Molly walked to the condiment station, which was wrapped in blue twinkle lights, allowing the pair some privacy to discuss Avis’s custody options. Molly’s gaze shifted around the café, skipping from the vinyl records and book titles to the women waiting at the nearby booths. Two ladies, both well into their pregnancies, sat side by side, their shoulders touching as if supporting each other. Another woman rocked an infant to sleep, her own eyes half-closed. A fifth woman that Molly hadn’t noticed earlier sat huddled inside her oversized hoodie and slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses.

Brandie pressed a tall to-go coffee cup and a paper bag into Avis’s hands, held the door open for the younger woman and then joined Molly. “I thought with all Drew had going on, he’d have canceled tonight.” The café owner shook her head, her voice pensive. “The newspapers sure have not been kind to him.”

And yet there Drew was, offering kindness and support to a group of people in need. Molly hadn’t believed him guilty. Hadn’t even been searching for proof of innocence. But it was here inside the café. Good people like Drew were good to their very cores. She cleared the catch from her voice. “How often is Drew here?”

“Twice a month. Every month.” Brandie checked the honey level in a bear-shaped bottle. “Over the past five years, he hasn’t missed one day.”

She wasn’t surprised. Drew hadn’t missed a day of work in college or missed helping Molly when she’d needed it. “How do people know he’s here?”

“It started with the women living at Penny’s Place.” Brandie opened the cabinet beneath the counter. “Penny runs a home for abused and homeless women. Word seemed to spread from there.”

The door to the café swung open. Another woman stepped inside. She nodded to Brandie, stuffed her hands in her pockets and slid into an empty booth. Her bleak gaze fixed on Drew. Molly asked, “When will he finish this evening?”

Brandie refilled the napkin holder from a box inside the cabinet. “He stays until closing at nine. But most nights it’s later than that.”

Molly checked her watch. She wanted to speak to Drew again, but she had to pick Hazel up from day care. Even more, she wanted to help Drew help himself. She wanted him to have hope.

But she’d seen his wounded pride earlier outside the café. He hadn’t even let her finish her offer. His parents had already reached out to her, already paid her retainer fee. Surely, he wouldn’t refuse his parents’ help. Surely, together with the Harringtons, she could convince Drew to let her handle his case.

Molly thanked Brandie again, promised to return and slipped away to wait for her ride-share car. Inside the car, she dialed her ex and prepared what she would say in her voice-mail message.

An incoming video call interrupted her.

Her ex’s face filled the screen. Derrick Donovan, the man responsible for breaking her heart. And the reason she’d ended her tenure at Loft and Concord and relocated to San Francisco.

She inhaled and accepted the video call. “Derrick, I was about to leave you a voice-mail message.”

Her ex peered into the screen. “Well, Molly, I have to say it would’ve been a surprise to hear from you.”

“There is something else that needs to be said.” Weeks into her pregnancy, Molly had taken the initiative and walked away from Derrick, convinced there was nothing left between them in terms of a relationship.

“Are you regretting your move to the Bay Area?”

“Actually, I only regret not moving sooner.” Then perhaps she’d have reached out to Drew as a colleague and reestablished their friendship quicker. Meaning he might’ve turned to her for help now.

Her ex frowned.

“I’m filing for full custody of Hazel,” Molly continued. Inside the Roasted Vibes Café, she’d been reminded of the importance of legally closing loose ends. She had to remember to thank Drew. “I’ll let you know when you can expect the paperwork to arrive.”

“I see.” Derrick steepled his fingers under his chin as if he were searching for clarity.

Molly narrowed her gaze, trying to scrutinize her ex’s expression. She’d been the one to misunderstand everything during their two-year relationship. To misread Derrick’s vows of love. His promises to put her first. She’d failed to see the truth about him until it was too late. Not a mistake she’d make again. “I’ll

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