Whether was never in question.

Whether had been answered in a hallway by a child who chose me before I chose her.

When I finished and set down the pen, Maya woke.

She opened her dark eyes and looked up at me, and she seemed to study my face for a moment as though confirming something, and then she let out a soft, sweet babble, a small string of sounds that meant nothing and everything, and she rested her head back against my shoulder and closed her eyes again, entirely at peace.

She had decided I was hers in the first ten seconds, back when she took my collar.