The leaves had started turning by the time Amina asked to come home again. It was the third week of September, and the air in Willow Creek carried that first sharp edge of autumn. She had texted on a Tuesday evening:
Amina: I’ve been thinking about what we talked about on the video call. I’m still not ready to make any decisions, but I don’t want to keep going months without checking in either. Would it be okay if I came home for a long weekend at the end of the month? Just us. I have some things I want to say, but I also just miss the porch.
Elias had read the message twice before showing it to me. His expression was careful, but there was unmistakable relief underneath it.
“She’s asking to come home,” he said. “And she’s asking to talk.”
We answered her together:
Both: Of course. Co
