“She almost grew up believing pain was a character flaw,” I answered.

“I won’t let you teach her that again.”

He stared at me.

I could tell he was searching for the old Paula, the one who would apologize to end an argument.

“You’re acting like a stranger,” he said.

“I feel like one,” I replied.

“For the first time in years, I can hear myself think.”

Then I stepped into the elevator alone.