Dylan stood near the edge of the gravel, looking up at the reassembled house in silence.

“You actually did it, Mom,” he said, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

Chloe ran up the wooden steps and threw her arms tightly around my waist.

“It looks exactly the same,” she whispered against my shoulder. “But it feels so different.”

“It is different, sweetie,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “It’s built on our own land now.”

Dylan walked inside, dropping his heavy bag onto the clean oak floor.

He walked straight to the large living room window and stared out at the view.

“We can see the sunset from here,” he said, his voice quiet.

“Your grandfather always said this was the most beautiful spot in the state,” I told him, joining him at the glass.

I led them down the short hallway to their bedrooms.

The furniture was still wrapped in protective plastic, but their beds were exactly where they belonged.

“We have some work to do before we can sleep,” I said, pointing to the boxes.