The next morning, my mother called before eight. Our old neighbor, Mrs. Halstead, had watched the holiday special and recognized me immediately. When Mom asked where she had seen my house, Mrs. Halstead apparently went silent before saying, “On television. Juliette built it. You really didn’t know?” By the time Mom called me, she already knew about Larkspur Ridge, the national feature, and the house she had declined to visit because Tessa supposedly needed groceries.
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