It would need water, patience, and years before it cast much shade.

I thought of my father in the courtroom, laughing at my uniform, certain he knew the limits of his daughter’s world.

I could have spent the rest of my life proving him wrong.

But there were better ways to spend it.

I set the notebook on my knees and wrote to Walter one last time.

I’m home. Not because I gave up what I became, but because I finally understand you never asked me to.

Then I closed the book, called Buster, and stepped out beneath the evening stars.

The farmhouse lights glowed behind us.

This time, I wasn’t waiting for anyone’s permission to leave them on.