Charlotte's first birthday—January—had come and gone with the specific warm chaos of a one-year-old's party, attended by what felt like the entire extended Romano-Collins family plus Marco, plus Rosa (who had flown down specifically), plus Carol from the events firm, plus David Park's family from the Indianapolis consortium, who had, in the eighteen months since the kickoff meeting, become genuine friends rather than just professional connections.
By spring, Charlotte was walking—the specific unsteady determined walking of a toddler who fell down approximately forty times a day and considered each fall a minor interruption rather than a setback.
And Dante had started a project.
It began with a single raised garden bed, in the corner of the Coconut Grove garden, near where the bougainvil
