Chloe’s first day at my house began with a difficult choice.

She stood in the guest room, looking at the clean sheets and the basket of toiletries on the dresser, and asked whether she could keep the door closed at night.

“Of course,” I answered.

“Even if I have a bad dream?”

“Even then.

You can call me if you want me.

I won’t come in unless you ask or there’s an emergency.”

She tested the door latch twice.