A few weeks later, I received a letter from him along with a photo: he was teaching children how to code at a community center, smiling like someone who had finally come up for air. His note read, “Turns out, we all get another chance. Thank you for helping me see mine.”
I placed the photo on my desk — a reminder that closure doesn’t always look like revenge or triumph.
Sometimes, it arrives softly — a gesture, a conversation, a moment of grace.
