Free The Edge of Night by Jill Sorenson Page B

snuggled as much or watched every moment. Like most little girls, she longed for her own room, filled with fun toys, decorated in her favorite colors.
    April ached to give her those things. She hadn’t planned to be a teen mother or a single parent, but she’d promised to do right by Jenny. She wanted more for her daughter than what she’d had: no father figure, no financial stability, no positive role models.
    But here she was, struggling to make ends meet, going it alone. Like Josefa, April had a history of poor choices and bad men.
    She knew her mother was sorry about leaving Jenny the other night. When they came back from the beach, Josefa had greeted them with a nice dinner. She’d even made Jenny’s favorite desert, orange flan. April wasn’t appeased by the gesture, but she hadn’t said a word. After a tense evening, they all retired early.
    April couldn’t keep her silence any longer.
    She used the bathroom and dressed quickly, splashing cool water on her face. Then she woke Jenny, giving her a light breakfast before ushering her out the door. Yesterday, she’d spoken to her neighbor about taking over for Josefa as Jenny’s babysitter. Consuela had three daughters of her own, the youngest of whom was Jenny’s age, and the girls were already playmates. Her husband worked a seasonal job up north, and Consuela said she could use the extra money. It was a relief to have the details settled.
    Now she had to break the news to Josefa.
    April took Jenny by the hand, looking both ways before they crossed the street. Filled with apprehension, she knocked on Consuela’s front door. “Can Jenny play with Fabiana for a few minutes?” she asked in Spanish, after the woman answered. “I need to talk to my mother about our … situation.”
    “My abuelita is sick,” Jenny said helpfully. “She takes too much medicine.”
    Consuela waved her inside. “Of course, m’ija . Take all the time you need.”
    “Gracias.”
    April wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts as she returned to her house. It was cool and overcast at this time of morning, but the sun would burn through the clouds soon enough. Inside the living room, Josefa was curled up on the couch, her slender hands wrapped around an oversize coffee mug.
    April needed some caffeine herself. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, anticipating this conversation.
    “Where’s Jenny?”
    “At Consuela’s. From now on she’s going to sleep over there on the evenings I work.”
    Her mother recoiled as if she’d been struck. Then she set her mug aside. “I’m sorry about the other night. I feel terrible about leaving Jenny. I meant to come right back, and—” She waved her hands in front of her face, erasing the memory of her transgression. “No excuses. It won’t happen again.”
    April sank into an overstuffed chair, not bothering with coffee. Her stomach was already churning. “Has it happened before?”
    She blinked her pretty brown eyes. “No.”
    Hiding her unsteady hands, April crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you brought men over?”
    “No,” Josefa said, with more vehemence.
    April thought she was telling the truth, but Josefa was a good liar. “If I find out you let a man so much as look at my daughter, I will never forgive you. Ever.”
    Josefa’s eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t.”
    April felt the same pressure behind her eyelids, so she took a deep breath. She pictured Jenny cowering in her closet, and it tore her apart inside. As a child, April had done the same, when one of Josefa’s boyfriends had tried to break in to her room at night.
    She’d rather die than allow that to happen to Jenny. “I’m sorry, Mamá . I can’t live like this anymore. You have to get help—or leave.”
    Josefa stared at her in disbelief. “Because of one little mistake?”
    “It was a big mistake, Mom. And hardly your first.”
    “It won’t happen again,” she swore.
    “I found coke in your purse.”
    Her face paled. “That