I thanked her and asked her to keep any messages about them.

I didn’t ask her to identify a person she hadn’t clearly seen.

When we finished, I sat with the phone in my hand.

People had walked past my doorway without knowing a decision about my life was being carried out behind it.

They hadn’t failed me.

They hadn’t been told.

I wrote her contact information for Sophia and put the phone away.

One more part of the story had moved outside the explanations my parents controlled.