“It’s not my home,” Linus admitted quietly. “I live in the city.” Helen scoffed. “A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?” She turned and hollered for Norman, disappearing through the swinging door, leaving Linus staring after her. His ice cream was beginning to melt.
