“It feels weird,” he said, watching a man with a pneumatic wrench climb onto the roof. “It’s like a giant Lego set.”

“It was built to go up fast,” I said. “And it’s going down faster.”

“Are we really going to live in the apartment forever?” Chloe asked, her voice small.

“No,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder. “We’re going to build something that belongs to us.”

By noon, the crane was in position.

The heavy steel cables were lowered and secured to the lifting eyes of the guest wing.

The crane engine roared, emitting a thick cloud of black diesel smoke.

The steel cables grew taut.

There was a sharp, metallic pop as the first set of structural bolts gave way.

The entire guest suite rose three inches into the air.

It hung there, suspended over the trees.

I watched the glass-fronted office where Richard had spent his weekends ignoring us.

It swung gently in the breeze as the crane operator turned the cab.

The crew lowered the room onto the bed of the first flatbed truck.

They secured it with yellow ratcheting straps.