out of what he had done.
Those moments mattered.
But freedom turned out to be quieter.
It was buying groceries without explaining the receipt.
It was sleeping without listening for footsteps.
It was receiving money for my work and deciding for myself where it went.
It was hearing someone raise their voice in another apartment and realizing I did not have to prepare for what came next.
And sometimes it was simply standing beside a stove, cooking exactly what I wanted, knowing nobody in the room believed I needed to learn my place.
I already knew my place.
It was anywhere I could stand without being afraid.
