But it meant I needed to learn to trust more slowly, to stay close to those who knew me before the charm began.

I folded the suit into a donation bag.

I kept only a small photograph of Valerie and me standing in the garden, taken two years earlier when Leticia had not yet entered our lives.

Connie waited by the door.

“Ready?”

“Almost.”

I looked around the room once more, then switched off the light.

When I stepped outside, I discovered that leaving did not feel like surrender.