Caroline sat at the dining room table surrounded by college catalogs and financial aid forms.

She had brochures from Virginia Tech, the University of Virginia, and several out-of-state engineering schools.

“The trust will cover tuition, housing, and lab fees,” she said, organizing the papers into neat piles with her left hand.

“You’ve earned this, Caroline,” I said, setting a glass of iced tea beside her elbow.

“I want to study biomechanical engineering,” she said, looking down at her empty right sleeve. “Specifically, prosthetics that use neural interface mapping.”

I sat down opposite her, the old wooden chair creaking slightly under my weight.

“That sounds incredibly difficult,” I said.

“It’s just logic and materials science,” she said, a small smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. “People are just complicated machines.”

“Some more than others,” I murmured.

She nodded, her eyes falling on a small, blue envelope postmarked from Henrico County.

It was a letter from Rebecca.

It had arrived three days earlier, addressed directly to Caroline.

Rebecca had not called or showed up at our house; she had kept her promise to give Caroline the space she needed.