I pulled on my robe and went to the door.
On my porch stood a young woman holding a little boy who looked about four years old.
He was wearing only one sneaker.
She looked exhausted, and completely out of options.
« I know this is a strange question, » she said quietly, « but could my son and I sleep in your guest room? Just for tonight. We’ll be gone before you wake up. »
Who came knocking at that hour, in weather like this?
« I don’t even know your name, » I said.
« Elena, » she answered. « Elena. And this is my boy. »
The child’s head lolled against her shoulder.
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