No one checked the surface for powder. No one watched the shoreline. No one needed to play dead.
Tobias stood beside me on his own two legs, shoulder against mine, while the lights from the shipyard came on one by one behind us.
I lifted my cup toward the darkening river.
For years, other people had used love, weakness, marriage, grief, and even kindness as disguises for control. That evening, nothing was disguised. My brother was standing. My mind was clear. My home and work were mine to choose. The people who had tried to erase us no longer had the power to tell our story.
And for the first time in a very long time, the warm thing in my hands meant exactly what it appeared to mean.
