It no longer seemed like the doorway to another life.

I had built that doorway myself, with help from people who didn’t demand ownership of me in return: Elena with her spare couch, Malcolm with a job interview, Leila with careful advice, Mateo and Clara with the courage to speak, and a detective who reminded me that accuracy mattered more than drama.

Even Vincent, with all his contradictions, had eventually learned to help without trying to control the result.

On my way home I stopped at the grocery store and bought fresh flowers.