“You can’t fit people in a box.”

“No,” I said, laughing.

“That’s what makes them special.”

That night I put the old hospital bracelet I had saved from Theo’s birth into my own drawer.

Once, looking at it had brought back fear.

Now it reminded me that we had survived the beginning of a hard story and had gone on to write a very different one.

I didn’t know what every future year would bring.

I knew only this: no Sterling fortune, no threatened agreement, and no frightening voice could decide what kind of home my son and I would make.

In our home, love did not demand surrender.

It made room for us to grow.