From this vantage point, Casagrande looked less like a house and more like a living thing. He could see the patches on the roof where three generations of men had hammered shingles. He could see the swing hanging from the ancient valley oak where he and his sisters had spent their summers.
Leo looked around the room. He saw the anxious faces of his family. He saw the legacy in his mother's eyes, and the exhaustion in his own reflection in the dark window. "If we sell," Leo said softly, "Casagrande disappears." Casagrande
But as Leo looked down at the house, the conflict in his chest felt like physical weight. From this vantage point, Casagrande looked less like
"I think," Leo said, looking at his mother, "that we have a few more seasons left in us." Leo looked around the room
A cheer erupted in the room, louder than any argument that had come before it. Rosa smiled and patted his hand, and for the first time in months, Leo felt the heavy weight lift from his shoulders. The soil was dry and the work was hard, but as long as the lights were on at Casagrande, he was exactly where he needed to be.