The phrase made her smile. There was honesty in it. It meant she was not whole in the way she had been before, but she was usable, cared for, kept. There was dignity in being mended openly, the way a well-loved garment shows its stitches.
Yan nodded. “I’m not asking for the old promises. I’m asking to help carry the things that need carrying.” ane wa yan patched
“I can’t promise I’m the same,” she said. “I can’t promise I won’t be scared sometimes. But I can promise I will show up for the places I love.” The phrase made her smile