He clicked “Other” and typed: “Living with family. No formal lease.”

He typed more. Deleted it. Typed again. His thumb started to throb.

It was 11:47 PM on a Tuesday. The house was silent except for the hum of his ancient laptop’s fan. Leo had been putting this off for three months. His therapist had sent the forms. His family doctor had written a six-page letter. But the final step—the online portal, the digital confession of his own limitations—that was his alone.

Do not call.

The page loaded. It was aggressively beige. A spinning green wheel appeared, pulsing like a slow heartbeat.