“They serve different purposes.”
I asked how long it might take.

He said he couldn’t know.

I admired him for refusing to offer the certainty I desperately wanted.

At home we listed the direct costs of what had happened: hospital bills, temporary housing, the disputed expenditures, canceled care, and repairs needed at the original apartment.

We also made a list of what money could never measure: the nights Maya spent afraid, the first days with Liam that I had missed, the trust shattered between relatives.

Maya took the pen from my hand.