She came home at 7:20 on a Thursday with takeout for one and her keys still in her hand and found nine people arranged in a half-circle of dining chairs somebody had carried in from the kitchen. Her brother had flown in from Denver. Her college roommate, whom she had not called back since February, sat on the ottoman holding a folder of printouts.

They read their letters in order, and the letters were kind, which was the part she had not prepared for. She stayed standing the whole time. When they finished she thanked them, and said she appreciated it, and said they had the timing slightly wrong, that this was the month it was turning around. Then she asked, gently, who had told them.