Something changed in his face. Not relief — responsibility settling into place.

“Real stake,” I said. “Real say. Real work. Real accountability. But the conditions on Birchwood stand. Seven years. This ridge is separate. If we do this, we do it as two men building something, not as family trying to paper over what broke.”

He was quiet a long while. “I’d want to add a workshop,” he said eventually. “Not just repairs. Job training. Basic carpentry, equipment maintenance, maybe partnerships with local businesses.”

“Write it down.”

“I can’t promise I won’t stumble.”

“I don’t need perfect.”