“They built this home out of love.

They poured it into these walls for years.

And when the storm came — and oh, my darlings, what a storm it was — that love did not break.” Her fingers tightened over ours.

“It held.

Do you hear me?

It held.”

Chapter 17 — The Small Kitchen

That evening the three of us sat around the small kitchen table and ate a plain, good supper — Evelyn’s soup, warmed up, and bread, and not much else.