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“Into water.”

“There was a rope!”

“The roof was faster.”

Josh stares at him.

Summer pats Ethan's chest. “Maybe stop helping your case, babe.”

“Smart,” Cas says.

I look up at the treehouse again, and suddenly, I can picture them all as teenagers, climbing over each other, shoving and yelling, jumping into the lake and coming home filthy and hungry.

Damiano among them.

Loud.

Covered in dirt.

Alive.

“He loved this place,” I say quietly.

Jude looks at me. “Yeah.”

“He talked about it all the time. The ranch, the horses, this stupid treehouse.” I smile as I look around at the family. “You guys.”

Lily's eyes fill with tears.

“We loved him too.”

I look at her. “I know.”

And I do. Maybe I didn't fully understand it before, but standing here with all of them, I finally see just how much of Damiano's life existed before I ever knew his name. He didn't simply spend part of his childhood in Wyoming. He had a home here, a life filled with people who loved him, and memories that belonged to them long before he became part of mine.

For some reason, thinking about all those years I missed doesn't make me sad. I'm grateful that he had them, that he was loved so deeply and that these people are here today because he was their family, too.

I look down at the urn in my hands, running my thumb slowly over its smooth surface.

This was one of your homes.

Just like you said.

I lift my gaze to the treehouse, the lake beyond it and the family gathered around me.

His family.

I press the urn against my chest one last time.

“I brought you home, vita mia,” I whisper, my voice breaking on the last word.

I close my eyes and press my lips to the top of the urn before turning towards Jude. He's watching me, his eyes shining, and when I walk over and hold the urn out to him, his gaze drops to it before snapping back to mine.

He doesn't take it.

“What are you doing?”

“I think you should do it.”