This wasn’t just a gift.
It was a new beginning.
—
By the time I reached the bus station, my phone was ringing nonstop—Jason, Brittany, Sharon.
I ignored them all.
The ride back to Tucson felt long, but with each mile, my thoughts became clearer.
Jason had never openly mistreated me—but he never stood up for me either. And that kind of silence slowly erases a person.
His mother criticized me constantly. His sister followed her lead. And he always told me to be patient—to not take things personally.
I listened for years.
Until patience turned into losing myself.
—
When I arrived in Tucson, something shifted.
The air felt familiar.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged somewhere again.
At Frank Dalton’s workshop, he looked at me carefully and said, “So he finally did it.”
As if he had been waiting.
