The roof shingles were worn, and the wooden porch steps had recently been replaced, but the tall pines still crowded close around the rustic walls.

This was the place where Brandon had taught our young sons to fish in the nearby creek.

This was where little Daisy had taken her very first steps across the uneven wooden floorboards.

This was the place where I had once believed our family would happily gather for generations to come.

Leonard opened the front door the moment we walked up the steps.

“I’m so very sorry, Hannah,” he said softly, stepping aside to let us in.