Mid-May
Moving day arrived with perfect weather sunny but not too hot, a slight breeze that made the work bearable. Margaret's new apartment was only fifteen minutes away, a small one-bedroom in a transitional housing complex specifically for people reentering society after incarceration.
"It's perfect," she said when we arrived with the first load of boxes. "Small, but mine."
The apartment was sparse basic furniture provided by the program, white walls, industrial carpet. But it had a bedroom with a real door, a kitchen with actual counter space, and a bathroom she didn't have to share with three other people.
"Where do you want this?" Kai asked, carrying a box labeled "kitchen stuff."
"Counter is fine. I'll organize later." Margaret was practically vibrating with excitement and nerves. "I can't believe I have my own place. A real place, with a door I can lock from the inside."
Maya was already exploring, opening cabinets and checking out the closets. "It's nice, Mom. Cozy."
