Nadia stepped into the cramped living room to find her mom sprawled on the small, lumpy couch, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow. 

"Mom?" Nadia whispered, dropping her bag by the door. "Did you just get back?" 

Estelle groaned softly, shifting her weight. "About ten minutes ago, honey. My bones feel like they’vebeen wrecked." 

Nadia knelt beside her, reaching out to touch her mother’s hand. It was rough, the skin pruned fromhours in water. "Are you okay? You look pale." 

"I am just famished, Nadia. And tired. The house the agency sent me to today... it was a pigsty. I don’t think those people have picked up a broom in...