“Are you sure I don’t look like I’m trying too hard? Because I feel like I’m trying too hard.”

Noah stood in front of the full-length mirror in the mansion’s foyer, tugging nervously at the collar of his new polo shirt. For a boy who had spent the better part of his teenage years in hospital gowns and oversized t-shirts that smelled of antiseptic, the crisp fabric of a university-ready outfit felt like a suit of armor he hadn’t quite earned yet. He looked at his reflection, then down at his feet, then at the empty space beside him where a heavy, humming oxygen tank used to sit like a...