He looked back at her. Direct and unhurried. "Yes," he said simply. "Very much."

She held his gaze. "She was lucky to have someone who looked after this place the way you have."

He said nothing for a moment. She saw him receive that — the specific way someone received a thing that landed somewhere real.

"She made it easy," he said finally. "She cared about it."

Celeste looked at the garden around her. At the wild roses and the self seeded things and the fig tree and the sundial and the paths that were still there under everything.

"I want to restore it," she said. Not planned. Just true....