Feet pressed down on the fire escape stairs. Descending. Out of sight— from familiar eyes, from the neighbors. The steps no longer steady. No confidence. Uncertain. Go on? Or turn back? In that split second of hesitation, a breeze passed— fresh enough to carry away the clinging thoughts. The steps reached a wide alley behind the house, but not a clean one. Then, a child’s voice: “Look, Mama. A pirate.” The man let out a sigh—barely audible.