And his daughter, sitting in his chair, wrapped in his blanket, watching his sunset, chose to come the rest of the way home herself, by laying down the last of the grief at the door.

The game is over.

I was not the girl whose father abandoned her anymore.

I was simply a woman, wealthy and free and at peace, who had, against all the odds of a hard life, been found, and known, and, in the strange broken way that was all he had to give, loved.

It was enough.

In the end, it was more than enough.