Beyond it, construction equipment stood behind a fence on the neighboring property.

I imagined a road cut through Walter’s birches and the hickory removed to make space for an entrance sign.

The land wasn’t a museum.

I understood that old houses and old promises sometimes needed to change.

But a change chosen freely was different from one forced through lies.

My phone lit up with a message from Patricia.

Your father has worked too hard to have you destroy everything.

Please be reasonable.