The effort cost her nearly a minute, but she rose on her own.

Her face was exhausted and proud.

I felt an almost irresistible urge to cry, and I kept it to myself.

The victory belonged to her.

At home, I made small adjustments to the spare room.

A handrail near the bathroom, a night-light in the hall, space for the exercise equipment the therapist recommended.

My colleagues at the shipyard offered to build a ramp if needed.

I was accustomed to supervising industrial projects, approving budgets and schedules, but nothing about the work in my own hallway felt ordinary.