That evening, I asked, "Ella, do you want to go back?"
"Are you crazy?" she demanded. "Here I'm a person who matters—for the first time in years—and you're suggesting going back?"
I changed my mind and said, "Promise me you'll be careful."
She nodded and whispered, "I promise."
"Night, Ella," I murmured.
"Night, Lockie," she answered.
