The snow started to fall in a swirl as she stepped out into the street of her childhood neighborhood. Tonight was the anniversary of her father's death, and tomorrow would be her mom's. Both died just one day from each other but about 22 years apart. The home where she had lived during her early teen years was still standing. Another family lived there now, of course. They had looked at her a bit warily when she explained who she was, and how she had lived there so long ago, and had just wanted to see her old family home. They were an immigrant family, the mom had on a headscarf, and the father, though he tried to look stern, looked more weary and exhausted than anything else. There two boys and one older girl, who looked solemnly on as Tess walked into the home, her eyes looking for familiar signs of her old life. The house had been repainted, but the old wallpaper in the small dinette area was still there. Little yellow flowers on a white background, cheerful despite th...