I told her about a new clinic project and a weekend trip Leah and I were planning.

We talked briefly about the remaining legal matters, then put the documents away.

Those matters were part of my life, but I had decided they would no longer be the entire subject of it.

When I left the café, the afternoon sun fell across the pavement.

I could see its white glare spreading over the sidewalk and feel the familiar reassurance of my cane finding the curb.

Once, I had thought the miracle would be opening my eyes and seeing Colton’s face again.

I was grateful for every fragment of vision that returned.

Yet the deeper change had arrived when I understood that I did not need perfect sight to see the truth, and I did not need anyone’s permission to build a future.

I stepped into the sunlight and went home.