Kai pulled out a small notebook. “At the Spectrum , they’re planning a pride parade. But someone said trans flags shouldn’t be at the front because ‘it confuses the message.’”

Kai looked at the quilt. “So… we’re connected because we survived together?”

She pointed to a dusty quilt hanging on the wall. “That quilt was made in 1987. See that patch? It says ‘Transgender Nation.’ During the AIDS crisis, trans women of color—like Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera—were the gardeners who fed everyone else. They fought for gay rights and trans rights at the same time, because you can’t separate a garden’s roots without killing the plants.”

Kai hesitated. “I just left the Spectrum . Everyone there is nice, but… I’m trans. I don’t feel like ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’ fits. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere.”