Those words did not erase what had happened.

They did not heal me in an instant or guarantee a happy ending.

They told me that help was near, that somebody else knew, and that the silence Garrett had depended on was finally broken.

He had tried to turn our backyard into the smallest world I would ever know.

Today I have a yellow kitchen, a little porch, a sister who lets herself in with grocery bags, and a daughter who laughs with her whole body.

The world is wide again.