When I visited Chloe that evening, I told her about the meals, the photographs, and the handrail.

She listened, then held up her own small notebook.

“I have a list too,” she said.

“Things I want to do when I leave.”

At the top she had written: Choose my own clothes.

I looked at her, and she grinned.

It was the first time I had heard her laugh without immediately apologizing for it.

PART 11