They moved in on a Saturday morning with a rental truck, two tired cars, and seven people who looked like they were already apologizing for existing.
The dad came over before the first box was even inside. He kept his shoulders tight, like he was waiting for someone to shout.
Behind him, the kids lined up in the doorway—five of them, different ages, all watching my face like it mattered too much. The youngest held a stuffed rabbit by one ear.
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