At 7:12 on a bright Saturday morning, Rosa Alvarez opened her garage and found the past waiting in a dusty avalanche. A cracked bookcase leaned against a box of faded school projects. Two old patio chairs tangled with bent curtain rods. Behind them sat the remains of her father’s workshop, quiet beneath a film of sawdust.
By Monday, a contractor was due to begin renovating the garage into a small art studio for Rosa’s daughter. But first, everything had to go. The family had spent weeks sorting what to keep, donate, recycle, and discard. Now the final obstacle filled the driveway in a stubborn, lopsided pile.
