And more than that, it was the last place where his family still existed.

Somewhere in those walls was the workbench where he had cut the pattern for a red dress for a five-year-old’s birthday.

Somewhere was the doorway where he had once held a laughing boy on his shoulders.

The shop was not just Julian’s memorial.

It was Lily’s, and it was the memorial of the family that fire had destroyed, the only place on earth where they were all, still, in some sense, together.

To demolish it, as Caleb intended, would not have been to clear a lot.