The bruises faded in a couple of weeks; the flinch when a man moved too fast near her took longer, and some small part of it, I think, will always be there.

But she is not a woman who lets a thing like this take the light out of her.

She went back to her roses.

She went back to the library.

She wrote her thank-you notes.

And a little at a time, the peace came back into her quiet house, room by room, until it was hers again.