The night after the funeral, the house felt emptier than ever. Claire listened as her brothers joked in the kitchen, clinking glasses and swapping stories about Dad’s old tricks and wild younger days. They talked about fixing up the Jeep or taking the boat out on the lake once spring arrived. When she walked in, conversation fell to a hush for a moment—just long enough for her to notice. “Hey, Queen of the Cobwebs,” Sam called, raising his glass.
“Found any treasures out there yet?” Bryan snorted, shaking his head, and she forced a tired smile. She excused herself and wandered out to the porch, letting the cool air bite her cheeks. Across the field, the barn stood in shadow, looming and silent. As the wind picked up, she remembered childhood afternoons spent playing in the dust and sunlight, her father’s laughter echoing against the rafters. Now, all of that seemed lost beneath years of neglect.