>["What was home like?"]

"Sounds like you came from a good home. Mind telling me more about it?"

"Oh no, I don't mind! Honestly, I'd love to tell you. I haven't really talked about it in a while." Erich sat up and leaned back against the wall. "So back in Dinsmark, it was just Dad, me and my twin little sister Karla. Mom passed away when we were still young. I don't remember much of her, but I've seen the old photos. She was beautiful."

"Dad did everything after Mom died; he held down three different jobs for a while. Whenever he could come home in time, he would make us breakfast, pack our bags, and drive us to school before collapsing on the couch. We didn't have much, but what was there was enough for us. We had food, we had a roof, and most importantly, we had him. And that was all me and Karla needed to be happy."

His eyes glinted. The memories played out in his mind vividly, like a recording on home video.

"Then Grandma got sick. She was alone out in the Belkan countryside, and none of Mom's siblings were around to help. So we packed up what little we had and left Dinsmark behind. The house was dusty, smelled like cedar and smoke, and had this weird creak in the hallway that would freak Karla out at night. We spent our first week there sleeping in our coats because the heater in our rooms didn't work." He looked to you and smiled. "But we managed to make it work. We always did."

"One day, Dad went poking around this pole barn out in the back of the house and found Grandpa's agro-plane. Its engine was rusted, the paint was chipping off, and a lot of parts that needed replacing were no longer being manufactured. The thing looked like it hadn't been flown since the Osean War! But Dad just... went to work. He saw something in it; spent every minute he could spare fixing it up and by the end of that year's summer, it was flying again. Then he pitched to me this crazy idea—'why not start a cropdusting business?'"