Kai smiled—a real smile, small but true. They pinned the button to their jacket and stepped back into the rain. The city still felt cold, but now they knew where the warmth was.

On a rainy Tuesday afternoon, a young person named Kai walked in. Kai was nineteen, nonbinary, and drenched not just from the rain but from a fight with their parents. They had been told to leave the house because they’d asked to be called Kai instead of the name on their birth certificate.

“Come back tomorrow,” Mara said. “We have a reading group. There’s a gay man who knits, a lesbian who builds motorcycles, and a teenager who just came out as asexual. They’ll argue with you about pronouns, then share their fries.”

“You look like you need a place to sit,” she said.

Kai collapsed into the worn armchair by the window. “I don’t know where I belong,” they admitted. “My trans friends say I’m not ‘trans enough’ because I don’t want hormones. My gay friends don’t understand why I don’t just pick a box. And my parents… well.”

Kai wiped their eyes. “So what do I do?”

Mara looked up from her ledger, said nothing at first, and simply poured two cups of tea.