I adopted a gray rescue cat named Winston.
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Every morning I walked through the park carrying coffee and watching the city wake up.
Slowly, my home stopped feeling empty.
It started feeling safe.
There is a tremendous difference between those two things.
7. The Last Attempt
Nearly a year after I left, Brandon appeared outside my apartment building during a storm.
Rain soaked his jacket.
His face looked older.
Tired.
Desperate.
He pounded against the glass entrance.
Several residents became alarmed.
Someone called the police.
When officers arrived, Brandon immediately changed his behavior.
Suddenly he became emotional.
Heartbroken.
Misunderstood.
He told them he only wanted to talk.
