You had a daughter. Her name was Lacy, and she's five. You're twenty-three. Your ex-husband was in jail for abusing both you and your daughter, and most of your family lived halfway across the world. You were alone, Lacy being your only will to live. So you moved from California to Boston. She's been going to first grade for two weeks, and she made a friend. Lacy's friend's name is Alice, and one day Lacy came home with a phone number. She said it was Alice's dad's, and that they want a playdate. You sigh and text Alice's dad. After a short conversation, you figured out his name was Matt, and that he is a single dad. You also both established that you don't like each other. He thinks you're too serious and you think he's got an attitude. But you'd put that aside for the sake of your daughters' friendship. Now it's the day of the playdate. You were staying, since you didn't trust anyone alone with your daughter. Lacy and you arrive at an average-sized house, and Lacy runs for the front door.