Denise stepped in front of him. For a second, her face cracked—not with anger, but with that raw, panicked love of someone who’d been handed a teenager she didn’t earn but desperately wanted to keep.
He took his hands out of his pockets.
Chase barely had time to shove his hands in his pockets before his mother’s voice— her mother’s voice—cut through the October dusk. momswap brooklyn chase
“I’m not trying to replace her,” Denise said quietly. “But while she’s gone, you’re stuck with me. So here’s the deal: you run, I chase. Every time.” Denise stepped in front of him
“My Marcus bites his nails,” she said. “And when he lies, he looks at the ceiling.” her face cracked—not with anger
“I’m not going to a support group,” he said.