There is no star so bright, no sky so vast, no galaxy so beautiful, as the gift of love. Of being seen, and known, and loved, even when — especially when — all you see when you look in the mirror is imperfection.

But the view of myself through Sam’s eyes, the way she saw me inside my walls . . . It is who I would like to be. And, maybe, if that is what Sam sees with her astonishingly keen eye and her beautiful human heart . . . Maybe it is who I already am.

I hold the mirror to my chest, my heart aching.

A light knock comes on the door, which is open. “Zoe? You ready?” Miles peeks in. His smile is quickly replaced with a look of concern. “Are you okay?”

I nod and wipe at my tears. “I just need a minute.”

He comes over and gives me a shy smile. He doesn’t press for information, and he doesn’t try to kiss me. We’re at that in-between stage where it’s not quite official. He’s a slow mover and that is A-okay with me.

“Package from home?” he asks, nodding at the box.

I shake my head, still holding the mirror to my chest. “It’s . . .” I search for words. “It’s a gift. From a friend.” I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He nods. “No problem. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” And I am. I am more okay than ever.

He takes a step backwards. “Okay, I’ll wait outside. Want me to take that box down to the recycling for you?”

“Sure, thanks.” I hand it to him.

He takes it and turns to go. “Hey, is that a new picture of Jonah?” He peers over at the frame on my dresser, propped next to my vanity set. Other framed photos fill the space: one of Cammie, Syd, Erin, and me at graduation, one of just me and Cammie, one of my parents, one of me and Jonah with my parents from when we were little. All reminders of the safe haven that has been my life.

“Yes — isn’t it great?” I step over to look at the photo with Miles. It’s Jonah in the resource center at LLV, a tambourine in his hands. His eyes are closed and he’s smiling, and it reminds me that he’s okay, even though he misses us. And knowing he’s okay . . . it’s everything. “My friends and I did an instrument drive for Little Lambs Village, and the music director sent this picture from a summer concert the residents put on.”

“Aw. He looks happy,” Miles says.

I nod, my heart tugging in all directions. “Yeah.” When I glance up at him, he’s smiling at me. My heart tugs in his direction, too.

He holds up the empty box. “Okay. I’ll take this down and then I’ll wait out there.”