“I’ve got it.”
I never saw Rachel again.
But sometimes, late at night, when the store is quiet and the refrigerators hum, I think about how close she said she was to breaking. How close I’d been too, without realizing it.
Six dollars didn’t change my life by itself.
But the way it came back—magnified, intentional, human—did.
It reminded me of something I’d almost forgotten:
Kindness doesn’t disappear.
It circles.
It waits.
And sometimes it comes back in an envelope,
asking you to keep it going.
