hook.
I folded it carefully.
The embroidered name was worn but still readable.
Nora Reyes.
Co-Founder.
Outside, the air was cold enough to make me reach for my coat.
I slipped my right arm into one sleeve, then adjusted the other around my prosthesis.
Four years earlier, I had worn coats to hide what happened to me.
In court, I had removed one because I was finished being hidden.
That evening, I wore it for a much simpler reason.
It was cold, I was going home, and there was no one left whose permission I needed to be seen.
