like a home.
A genuine one.
June guided me to the rear windows.
“I wanted to show you this.”
A framed architectural sketch hung there.
I knew it instantly.
My mother’s original design for the lake-facing sunroom.
June had found it among the documents transferred with the property.
“I thought it deserved to stay,” she explained.
My eyes watered.
“Thank you.”
June gave a warm smile.
“You know, when I bought this place, I thought I was simply purchasing a beautiful house.”
She surveyed the room.
“I had no idea
