Tessa leaned back.
“According to who?”
“Me.”
“That seems unfair because you’re currently furious and sad.”
“I can remain objective.”
“You organized the spice cabinet by emotional usefulness last night.”
Tessa pointed toward the open cabinet, where the jars now stood in my private taxonomy of crisis.
“That was unrelated.”
“You put cinnamon under comfort.”
“It is.”
“And cayenne under consequences.”
“Also accurate.”
Tessa looked at the workbook.
“You registered because of Evelyn.”
“Initially.”
“You kept training because of Dani.”
“Partly.”
“What belongs to you?”
I disliked the question because it was right and I had no answer.
“The discipline,” I said.
“That sounds like work.”
“The progress.”
“Better.”
“The fact that I can run eighteen miles.”
“Very weird fact.”
“The community.”
Tessa waited.
“Keep going.”
I touched the workbook margin.
“The mornings.”
