It’s waiting. Waiting for its new owner to take possession. To live here and make a home here. To love it as it wants to be loved, to cherish it and value it.

Into his head came the memory of how he’d stood on this very spot, recognising his self-discovery, his sudden determination that he should make a home here for himself—recalling the moment he’d first felt that overpowering urge so strongly.

For a fleeting moment regret showed in his eyes for what he had done. Then it was gone. He had done what he had done, and it was what he had wanted to do. He would allow himself...