And somewhere beneath the back step, the drain just did its work. Clean, patient, and finally free.

For a moment, she felt disgust. Then shame. Then something unexpected: tenderness.

“Everything.”

The next morning, she bought a drain auger—a long, coiled snake of steel with a sharp little claw on the end. The man at the hardware store raised an eyebrow. “Kitchen sink?”

“Blocked outside drain?” he repeated. “From the kitchen sink?”