The shelter door wore a painted message: You Are Safe Here. He rang and waited. A woman with kind eyes answered and didn’t ask why his voice broke when he said Sarah’s name.
“We don’t release names,” she said. “But I can pass a note if someone asks me to.” He wrote one carefully: I’m sorry. I was wrong. Not funny, not fair. I will listen.
He added the sunflower charm and left like a stranger who hopes to be an acquaintance again someday.
