inside a sewing box.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
What matters about those peaceful years is quieter.
At some point, I stopped flinching when my phone rang on the first of the month.
I stopped mentally drafting apologies.
Being needed is not the same as being loved.
It took me thirty years to learn the difference and four more to believe it.
Marin will learn it for free.
I thought that chapter was finished.
I thought peace was something you got to keep.
Then, one Tuesday in September, somebody
