For the first time, neither of us rushed to comfort our parents simply because they were unhappy.

I didn’t buy another penthouse.

Instead, I rented a small brick house with a maple tree in the front yard.

The floors creaked.

The kitchen was ordinary.

And the porch overlooked a quiet residential street.

At first, it felt strange living somewhere without an impressive view or elaborate security system.

But gradually, I began to love it.

Neighbors waved when I collected the mail.

Children rode bicycles along the sidewalk.

Sometimes people left chalk drawings near the front steps.

It felt like being part of the world instead of watching it from above.

One evening, Paige brought Tyler and Emma over for dinner.

She arrived with a slightly overcooked lasagna and a bag of salad.

Tyler brought a board game.

Emma brought a drawing of my new house with enormous purple flowers and a little sign beside the door.