Impulse

            The impulse to help the little homeless family had been just that: an impulse. Maybe it was that the little girl in the car reminded her of herself at that age. Maybe it was that her manager annoyed her, and she just wanted to do something that would really, really annoy him back. Maybe it was that there was a handsome stranger looking on, and she had an image to maintain. Maybe it was all of the above. She never expected them to come back later, invading her privacy, interrupting her plans, and, above all, making her unexpectedly hate herself.