The plates clinked lightly as I picked them up from the low dining table. The simplicity of this one-room space had never bothered me before. It was warm, familiar, and wholly mine. But tonight, everything—every crack on the wall, every chipped corner of my plate, every inch of the humble bed pushed against the wall—felt scrutinized… changed.

“I’ll just keep these in the kitchen and come back,” I said softly, standing up with the dirty dishes.