She zipped the last suitcase shut and set it by the door. Calgary had been good to her at first. The mountains, the wide sky, the feeling of starting over out west. But the man she had moved for turned out to be someone she could not stay near. She left for her health, plain and simple. Now she stood in a half-empty room at fifty, waiting to figure out what came next. A leather dog collar sat on the mat outside her door. His dog. His life. She did not pick it up. She stepped over it and pulled her bag down the hall. The airport was bright and loud. She checked her bag at the counter and watched a plane taxi past the wide glass windows. Teal and blue. East-bound. Her hands stopped shaking somewhere between the gate and her seat. By the time the wheels lifted, she had already decided. She would find a small place of her own when she landed. One room, one key, one name on the lease. Hers.