Her shoulders relaxed.

They ate at the table where the grocery list had once lain.

Andrew told her that he had framed her drawing of the blue pickup and the sun.

She told him she’d learned to spell the word resilient at school.

“What does it mean?” he asked.

“It means you can get hurt and still keep trying,” she said.

“My teacher says it doesn’t mean you’re never scared.”

“That sounds right.”