Everything was halfway to being where it needed to be, everything was a work in progress, with no systems, no logic, no sense of organization about any of it. Everyone who came here—including Tim and Vicky—gushed and cooed about the charm of the place—“It’s so cozy! So welcoming!”—but they did not see the truth, that this house was the work of a disordered mind and all the enablers she lived with.
