The rest of the drive passed in silence. Makayla stared out the window. She rested her chin on her hand, watching as the lights grew brighter as they entered town. The streets were pretty much deserted. They stopped at a series of traffic lights before continuing through to the end of the road. At the end, her grandfather took a left and continued through town.
“Do you still live in the same house?” she asked in curiosity.
“For the last sixty-two years,” Henry replied as he slowed for another light.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to move?” she asked, turning to look at him.
Henry shook his head. “Why? When you live in paradise, it would be pretty stupid to move away from it,” he said.
“Mom must not have thought it was paradise,” Makayla retorted, turning to look back at the colorful lights.
