She looked at Emily.
“Where did all this come from?”
Emily hesitated.
“A man helped us.”
Margaret’s expression immediately hardened.
“What man?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I accidentally texted him.”
Margaret stared.
“You did what?”
Emily explained everything.
The wrong number.
The messages.
The stranger.
The groceries.
The envelope.
Margaret listened without interrupting.
When Emily finished, her mother walked to the window.
She looked outside.
Nothing.
Then she turned back.
“What did he say his name was?”
“He didn’t.”
Margaret’s stomach tightened.
“Did you give him our address?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him your name?”
Emily nodded.
“Just Emily.”
Margaret picked up the phone.
She checked the number.
Her face went pale.
She knew that number.
Not personally.
But everyone in Detroit knew certain numbers.
She searched it online.
One result was enough.
Her hand began to shake.
Moretti Holdings.
