The words surprised her as she said them.
They were true for more than one person.
Evan reached out again near Thanksgiving.
I know I shouldn’t have laughed.
I didn’t think it was that serious.
Dad says you’re being stubborn.
Margaret stared at the screen.
There it was again—not remorse, not concern, but reduction. Minimizing what had almost ended her life into something manageable, something that could be smoothed over if she would just cooperate.
She typed a response.
Then deleted it.
Some lessons cannot be taught by words.
Winter came gently to the coast. Fog in the mornings. Long walks wrapped in scarves. Margaret’s body grew stronger in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Swimming twice a week turned into three times. Her legs felt reliable again. Trustworthy.
One afternoon at the pool, she watched a teenage boy roughhouse near the edge, pushing his friend underwater until a lifeguard barked at them to stop.
