A FEW DAYS later, he flew out to San Francisco for the conference. He let the now-familiar refrain of the grieving run through his head. The last time I was on a plane, Lauren was . . . He’d posted on the forum about this, and it was a common experience; every experience clashing with a recollection of loss. For five hours, he stared out the window, watching America drift past below.

When they landed, he took a car to the hotel where the conference was held, signed in, got his badge and went up to his hotel room, which was very clean and generic, and on the second floor, per his request. He unpacked, ironed his shirt and looked at the conference program, marking which presentations and speakers he wanted to see. He knew some of them. Plenty of people likewise knew his name, because for a thirty-year-old, he was kind of a big deal. When he couldn’t stall any longer, he brushed his teeth and went downstairs to the conference rooms and displays.

Shockingly, it was a relief. All these people who didn’t know, all these people who just wanted to talk to him about work, new products on the market, trends in design, new technology.

For two days, he was immersed in the field he loved, the only one he’d ever considered working in. He went to the keynote lunch, given by a billionaire inventor who believed in global healthcare and pandemic preparedness. In workshops, he was greeted with respect and recognition. Twice, he saw his design for the neonatal monitoring bed in presentations, which gave him a quiet flare of pride.

Chiron Medical Enterprises, the company in Singapore who’d hired him to design a smart scalpel for spinal surgeries, was a sponsor of the conference. He’d sent them the final design and specs just last month. Alex Lang, the CEO, and Naomi Finn, the COO, found him and asked him to dinner. He accepted.

They met in the lobby and took a town car to an impressive restaurant at the base of the Bay Bridge, that other unsung wonder of San Francisco. Alex and Naomi flattered him, talked shop, told him funny stories and generally schmoozed him.

Sure enough, by the end of the second bottle of wine, the pitch came. “Josh, we’d love to have you work with us exclusively,” Alex said. “You could live in Singapore, or you could stay in Rhode Island. And let’s be honest, you can name your salary and benefits package. We want you to head up the design team, and we’re willing to do what it takes to make it happen.”

“That’s very flattering,” he said.

“Have you been to Singapore?” Naomi asked. “It’s amazing. Seriously. I’ve lived in seven major cities, including Sydney and Paris, and Singapore is the most beautiful of them all.”