“Not alone,” I said. “Not really. People helped. Not all at once, and not always in big ways. But enough to keep me from sinking. And then I learned how to swim again.” I touched her arm. “You’ll swim, too.”

She nodded like we’d struck a bargain with air. For a second, I could almost see a different version of the thrift store, one where our meeting had been scheduled by some cosmic admin who keeps the calendar of small miracles. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You have no idea.”