“Wait. Where are you going?” I turn on Sophs, confused that she even wants to go without me, enraged that Tasha is helping in this, and wounded that she would even try and leave me.

“Home. Bring my jacket later when you come back, I’ll get a cab. I have my bag here and money.” She points at her tiny bag and I stare at her in disbelief, stubborn head fully in place, on both of us it seems.

“No, Sophs … I’m taking you home, I’m coming with you. I take care of ...