Then another.

There was no one beside me asking whether my salary meant I could afford to surrender the house.

No one explained what Megan deserved.

No one called a forged document a family understanding.

The stairs were simply stairs, and I could take the time I needed.

At the landing, I adjusted the brace and paused.

I still wasn’t moving the way I had before surgery.

That would take its own time, with the guidance of the people helping me recover.