I stood at the counter with my cane propped nearby and made coffee while she argued with a drawer.
The scene was so normal that I kept looking around for danger.
There was none.
I still noticed the ceiling.
For a long time, every exposed beam, hanging plant, or dangling cord pulled me back into that utility room.
In my new apartment, the ceiling was plain and low.
I chose a simple lamp with no hanging chain.
That choice mattered more than it should have.
On the first evening, Emily carried in grocery bags and started putting things away as though she lived there.
I took the milk from her and placed it on the shelf myself.
She watched my hands, ready to help.
I shook my head.
“I have it.”
She let go.
Daniel once believed turning my body upside down would force life to obey him.
He was wrong about my baby, wrong about my body, and wrong about what fear could keep forever.
