For my entire childhood, the Wilder family felt like a fairy tale. Watching from the edges of Ian’s life, I couldn’t imagine anything better than what they’d created out of a second chance for both Tim and Sheila. Being a Wilder, to me, meant acceptance and welcome. It meant love and a landing place. Maybe Ian had always taken that a little bit for granted simply because he had it. When your landing place came tied up with strings and disappointment and I told you so, it didn’t feel like such a soft, friendly place to settle. But Ian’s house had that same quality for Sage and me that his
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