ELLA

I had spent the weekend recuperating—being home and in my own bed did wonders. I was finally in a space no one could barge into and make me feel uncomfortable, except, of course, for the occasional doorbell that went off at specific times of the day.

It had started the same morning Quincy dropped me off. That afternoon, I heard the bell and slowly dragged myself to the door, only to find no one there. Instead, a basket filled with food items sat on the porch, with a get well soon note attached.

At first, it was strange to receive something without knowing who it came from. But when...