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Hannah tugged his hand, eager to get home, wrap presents, and make cookies with her grandparents. He was eager to get home and grab a beer, so he picked up the pace and led her out to the parking lot. Once he’d dropped Hannah off safe and sound at his parents’ house, endured the daily barrage of questions about his mental health and his attitude, taken the tin of cookies his mother had shoved into his hands, and borrowed some wrapping paper, he escaped to his truck and tried to shake off the holiday blues. He glanced back when he heard his mother calling out, offering him some eggnog. He waved her off and then nodded when she reminded him about Christmas Eve with the family the next night. He pulled into his drive, turned his truck off, and stared at his house. He had purchased it just