By early September, the air had started to cool at night, and the first hints of autumn were showing in the leaves along Maple Lane. Elias and I had settled into a rhythm that felt steady in a way we hadn’t experienced in a long time. We worked during the day, cooked together in the evenings, and spent most nights on the porch talking about ordinary things. The house no longer felt like it was holding its breath.
Amina had gone back to campus in August after her long summer visit. She had been texting more regularly since then — not every day, but often enough that we no longer worried she was pulling away. One message had stayed with both of us for weeks:
Amina: I’ve been thinking about what we talked about this summer. I’m still not ready to make any big decisions. But I don’t want to
