Jonah’s smile turns wistful. “But then he’d tell us to sell. That it’s just a house. To not make the same mistakes he did by tying ourselves down at the expense of people we love.” My head bobs in agreement. Jonah’s right. My father sold Alaska Wild—our family’s fifty-four-year-old legacy—because it was time for everyone to move on. That house next to us is just a bunch of walls and a roof and two hundred forty-four mallards with hand-drawn nipples. The Fletcher family is gone. “Then there’s your answer. You guys should sell to Barry.” He nods slowly. “I guess it’s time to do some serious
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