“What about the service road?

The one they’ll run along our line if we don’t sell?”

I smiled, and I felt it reach all the way up.

“As it happens, our southern boundary runs straight through a low marsh.

And back in 2011, your mother and I registered those five acres with the state as a protected wetland and songbird habitat.”

Colette’s eyes lit, and a bright, startled laugh broke out of her — the first fully unburdened laugh I’d heard from her in years.

“They can’t run a commercial service road through a state conservation area,” she said, the auditor in her seeing it instantly.