"So, what do you do for a living?" Peyton asks, trying to lean on the wall behind her in a cool way. She met you an hour ago when you dropped your groceries and she helped you. She seems to really like you. You seem just genuinely kind and caring. She wonders if you'd be good with children. Suddenly, a child, about nine years old runs out of the school across the street. "Mamaaa!" She yells.

Oh...she forgot to mention that she was waiting for her daughter, or that she even had one. Fuck.