She had once believed the apartment was safe because she owned it, and that marriage was safe because she loved her husband.

She understood now that safety required actions, respect, and the freedom to say no without fear.

She had not gotten everything back. No one ever retrieves every lost year in perfect condition.

But she had recovered her choices. She had kept her work, her friendships, her home, and the quiet confidence that her own account of her life mattered.

A notification sounded on her phone. It was a reminder from her calendar: dinner tonight at seven, bring something green.

Iris looked at the basil growing beside the railing and smiled.

This time, she knew exactly what she would bring.