Maya sipped cold mint tea. “That’s true of a lot of people.”
“I thought being aware of need was the same as understanding it.”
“It usually is for people with money.”
He nodded, accepting the rebuke. “I want to set up something long-term for the center.”
Maya looked at him over the rim of her glass. “Something ethical?”
“Yes.”
“Not named after you?”
“God, no.”
She smiled despite herself. “Then maybe.”
By August, the weight loss was visible enough that strangers commented. Maya hated that almost as much as the opposite.
At a pharmacy checkout, the clerk smiled brightly and said, “You look amazing—whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”
Maya smiled back automatically, then sat in the car afterward with both hands clenched around the receipt.
Taylor noticed. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He waited.
She said, “I hate that people are kinder when I’m smaller.”
He rested his forearm on the steering wheel. “Do you want comfort or honesty?”
