I moved into Grandma’s old house — the one with creaky floors and wild gardens. Liana and I painted the walls, planted sunflowers, and filled it with secondhand furniture and laughter.
We started hosting dinners, small writing workshops, and movie nights for the neighbors. Someone nicknamed it “The Story House,” and the name stuck.
“You’ve got something to say, honey. Say it.”
And so I do.
A Legacy of Love and Voice
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