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It would even help the kids who lived in Evansly and went to school there. As it stood, the public school system there was so overcrowded, and the ones who needed it, didn’t get any individual attention.

When I’d started college in San Diego, I’d thrown myself into my studies full force. I’d been in survival mode, just trying to get from one day to the next, my heart so cracked and battered, some days I felt like I was too broken to move.

Having something other than Kyland to occupy my mind had been my saving grace. One late fall day my first year, I’d gotten into a discussion about education and poverty rates in Kentucky in a small study group I was in. I’d told them how the kids like me who lived on the mountain walked six miles or more to school every day. I’d held back from telling them the worst of it, but the group had been astonished that where I lived, very few people had cars or even heat. There had been a boy in that class, Howard, who mentioned offhand that I should look into grants for building schools. That comment had lived in the back of my head for several months until I’d finally decided to actually look into it.

I’d spent the next few years getting my teaching degree in English literature and applying for grant after grant—both public and private—to build a school in the poverty-stricken town of Dennville, Kentucky. Much to my surprise and joy, I’d secured a few grants from several private investors right before I’d graduated a few months ago. The funding would pay for the building, all the operating costs, and a very small staff.

And so I was home. Home to give back.

“So once this school is built, do you think that’s where you’ll work?” Marlo asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said quietly, running my finger along my lower lip. “Maybe. I wanted to talk to you about that, though, Mar. I mean, me coming back here, well, it means that you and Mama will have to wait just a little longer to get out of this trailer.” I frowned. “I’m going to see if I can work at Al’s while construction is underway, and I’ve saved up a little bit of money while I’ve been gone, since my expenses were paid for. I used some on my car, but whatever else I didn’t send to you and Mama, I put away in a bank account. But whether I work here in Dennville at the school or whether we all decide to move away so I can work somewhere else, that affects you.”

Marlo put her hand on my knee. “First of all, Tenleigh, Mama’s away for a little longer at least. Her doctors say another three months there would be ideal. You only took three and a half years to graduate. We didn’t even expect you home until this summer. We can wait—we can wait for you to decide, to build your dream. We’re so proud of you.” She pulled her hand back and studied her fingernails. “Also, I…well, I don’t spend very much time here.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Sam?”

“Yeah, his place is nice. It’s warm. He’s warm.”

“Why, Marlo, I do believe you’re blushing.” I ribbed her. “You love him, don’t you?”

She made a sputtering sound. “No, no, it’s still just casual. But why stay here”—she waved her arm around our small, run-down trailer—“if I can stay there? It’s closer to work too.”

I didn’t buy it. It’d been four years. “Well, okay, whatever you say.” I stood up. “I actually need to get going. I’m meeting Jamie at the site in half an hour.”

“Okay. I’m so glad to have you back, baby sister. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too. You have no idea, Mar.” She stood up and I squeezed her tight, sinking in to the comfort of her embrace, so happy to be back with my best friend.

When I pulled away, she said, “So, you up for visiting Mama next week? She’s expecting us.”

“Of course,” I said. “I wish we could go sooner.”

Marlo shook her head. “She does really well on a specific schedule. She’s so much better, Tenleigh. Wait until you see her.” Her eyes lit up in a way I hadn’t seen since we were kids. “Wait until you talk to her. It’s…” She became teary and started laughing, like Marlo usually did when she was about to cry, which was rarely. “Anyway…”

“I can’t wait.” I smiled. “Okay, I’m off. I know you have to work late. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning.” I hugged her again tightly and with that, I was out the door, and a few making later, I was driving back down the mountain.

As I drove down Main Street toward the lot the school would be built on, I felt the same happiness from when I’d caught sight of the mountains for the first time earlier today. Yes, I was home. And it was going to be good—it was going to be just fine.