She didn’t decide to stay. That was the thing people got wrong when they asked.
The apartment had a draft from the kitchen window she never fixed. Three months in, the landlord offered to replace the seal. She said it was fine. It was fine. She liked the way it made the curtain move.
Her sister asked what was keeping her. She said the rent was good.
What was keeping her was something she couldn’t name without making it smaller. The woman in 4B who left mail on the radiator to dry when it rained. The bodega owner who started stocking the oat milk without being asked. The particular way afternoon light hit the fire escape between four and four-fifteen.
None of these were reasons. A reason implies you weighed it. She hadn’t weighed anything. She had just stopped leaving.