That shift shaped her career.
She eventually became an architect specializing in sensory-accessible public design.
Then she turned toward Mason.
“You gave me something that day.”
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her bag.
Mason stared.
It was old.
Creased.
Rebecca held it up.
“Do you remember?”
“No.”
“You drew a restaurant.”
Mason frowned.
“Many times.”
“This one had something unusual.”
She unfolded the page.
A child’s drawing appeared on the screen behind them.
A diner.
But bigger.
Wide aisles.
Small quiet rooms.
Outdoor seating.
Different light levels.
Picture menus.
Text menus.
Private booths.
A sensory room.
A play area separated from the main dining area.
And written across the top in an eleven-year-old’s handwriting:
A PLACE WHERE PEOPLE DON’T HAVE TO LEAVE.
My chest tightened.
Rebecca looked toward the audience.
“For seven years, I’ve kept this.”
Then she clicked a remote.
The screen changed.
