The planning started almost by accident.Lillian was standing at the counter one morning, coffee cooling in her hands, scrolling through nothing in particular, when she said, “We should decide what to do with the back room.”Nathaniel looked up from the paper. “Do with it how.”“I don’t know yet,” she replied. “That’s the point.”The room in question had once been a temporary office, then a crisis command space, then a storage area for things neither of them wanted to throw away or confront. It existed in a state of permanent contingency.They had never planned it.They had merely occupied it.Nat
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