No list of instructions waited on my phone.
No one expected me to earn a place at my own table.
Callum curled against me, still shaped like the little comma he had been that first morning, though heavier now.
I warmed his bottle and watched the sky begin to lighten beyond the window.
For a long time, I had believed dignity would feel like victory.
It did not.
It felt like a locked door, a sleeping child, balanced accounts, and a kitchen where silence finally belonged to me.
