What I felt, standing in my own reclaimed foyer, was a vast, clean, weightless indifference, the most freeing feeling I have ever known.

“You told me on Monday,” I said, quietly, “that I had nothing left.

Do you remember?

You stood in this house and told me I had nothing.” I looked around at my home, my house, the walls that had always been mine.

“It turns out that I have my house.

I have my dignity.