All these years, I’d held this place in my heart as a slice of heaven on earth. Out of my reach, yes, but still there. Still proof that a piece of perfect, no matter how small, no matter how removed, existed. But now, I felt that hope crumble. I knew there had been changes, but I hadn’t imagined this level of…carnage.

And that’s what it felt like. As though invading marauders had come through my homeland and laid waste. Rationally or not, I felt personally violated.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’d received enough emotional blows in the past eleven years that I knew how to stuff the feelings back down, to keep moving. And that was what I did, looking both ways before walking purposefully across the street.

The gate was propped open the way it’d always been. If there was now more reason for security, the Swansons didn’t seem to know it. Or maybe they just chose to embrace the last sliver of tradition that existed in these parts. Trust.

There was a black truck in the driveway, indicating someone was home, and I climbed the two steps to the front door and knocked. A dog started yapping from inside, followed by the sound of a woman hushing it, and approaching footsteps. The door swung open, and Mrs. Swanson was standing there, her face morphing from polite confusion into recognition and then wide-eyed surprise. “Tuck. Oh my goodness.” She brought both hands to her mouth and then dropped them, stepping forward and gathering me in a hug. A smile took over my face, and the expression felt foreign. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt air on my teeth.

“Hi, Mrs. Swanson.”