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“That night at dinner, I thanked Rayya for taking care of everybody at the funeral, and for protecting us from the dangerous young man. She looked surprised, then her face softened. “Oh, honey,” she said, and suddenly tears stood in her eyes. “Did you think I was protecting us? No, baby, no. I was protecting him. Because here’s the reality, babe: We’re fine, and we’ll always be fine—even if he stole our car! Nobody needs to worry about us. But the odds are that kid doesn’t have much longer to live. He’s really far gone, and he doesn’t have any support system. But there’s always a chance he might get clean some day, with a miracle. And if he ever cleans up his life, as part of his recovery he’ll have to make amends to every single person he’s ever harmed. And I don’t want that poor kid, in addition to everything else he’ll have to face someday, to be forced to deal with the fact that he stole money from people at his grandmother’s funeral. I wouldn’t want that for anybody. So that’s what we were doing today, honey. We were keeping him safe from that—from the worst thing he could do to himself.” — Elizabeth Gilbert