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He brought the box inside, the glass bottles clinking like a low-budget wind chime. He pulled one out—the . It was still cool from the transit. As he popped the cap, the citrusy, piney scent filled his kitchen, instantly replacing the smell of stale office coffee with the memory of campfire smoke and damp earth. Silas had spent his twenties hiking the Appalachian

"Welcome home," he whispered to the empty room, raising the glass to the screen where he’d already bookmarked the reorder page. In a small town three states away from