My father is sitting in his reading chair when we walk into the room. In his hands is a piece of paper he seems to be reading. The moment he sees us, he opens his mouth, but the sounds that come out don’t form a word.

“It’s okay, Dad. Don’t force yourself to—”

“Sit,” Ma says before taking a seat next to my father. This seems strangely similar to an intervention.

“All right…” I sit on the corner of their queen-size bed, facing them. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

They look at each other before Dad offers Ma a small nod.

“You’re not happy,” she repeats, her dark gaze now on me.

I sigh. Talking about Wren is the last thing I want to do. I’ve stayed away from it as much as I could. I’ve even been avoiding Finn since last Saturday because I knew he’d ask me about what had happened.

“Ma, I’m not in the mood to—”

“You don’t like managing Evermore, do you?” she interrupts, her accent familiar while her words aren’t.

I stare at her with my jaw hanging. A talk about the farm was the last thing I was expecting. And while it’s better than bringing up Wren, I can’t see this going well.

“I don’t mind it,” I say, my back straight as a rod.

Dad tilts his head, his stare telling me he doesn’t believe my bullshit.

“You never wanted it before,” Ma says.

My shoulders lift in a shrug. “Things change.”

“Do they?”

Teeth clenched, I stare at them. What the hell is this?

As she grabs my father’s hand, Ma takes a sharp breath, then says, “We’ll sell the farm.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Càlmate.” Calm down. She points to the bed, making me realize that, in my indignation, I’d gotten up. But what the fuck is she talking about?

“No, you’re not,” I say after I sit back down.

“Yes, we are.”

I get back up again because fuck this. “It’s been in our family for three generations, and you just want to throw it away?”

“Aarón, it’s not like that. It’s okay to let go of things that aren’t working anymore.”

“And what if Callie wants it?”

Ma’s lips curl up. “Your sister wants to become a doctor. She’s never shown interest in wanting to run this place, and—”

“But what if—”

“And neither have you,” Ma finishes, making my throat close up. “We’re not going to force something on you that makes you unhappy. What kind of parents would that make us?”

“But… But it’s Dad’s legacy.” The one thing that has made me unable to let it go.