Early April
The apartment hunt was a disaster.
"This one has mold in the bathroom," I said, backing away from the third place we'd viewed that day.
"And the last one had bars on the windows," Kai added. "Like a prison. Pretty sure that's not great for someone who just got out of actual prison."
Ms. Chen sighed, crossing another address off her list. "Transitional housing for formerly incarcerated individuals is limited. These are our best options in your price range."
"They're terrible options," Kai said flatly. "I'm not letting my mom live in a place with black mold and broken locks."
"Then what do you suggest? The nicer facilities have year-long waiting lists."
We stood on the sidewalk in a questionable neighborhood, watching a guy yell at a parking meter, and I could see Kai's frustration mounting.
"She stays with us," I said suddenly.
Both of them turned to stare at me.
"What?" Kai asked.
