Lily's Point of View

This is what I envisioned home would be.

Home had been a kind of abstraction for years—a thing I'd known, then lost, then tried to rebuild. It had swung back and forth between a site of comfort and a site of horror. But in that instant, when I stood on the edge of the packhouse and watched the land litted with the golden light of sunrise, I saw something.

Home wasn't where one is but the people that surround the place and for the first time, I felt like I was theirs instead of just surviving. I looked beside me at the man standing next to...