“We’d been settled at the camp only a year, though Momma said it may as well have been forever. She missed having walls between us, a roof over her head, a rug beneath her feet. She missed her hair dryer and her washing machine, her flowerbeds and her blue-and-white collection of country dishes, handpicked piece by piece over a decade’s worth of fleas and fairs and online bids—missed it right down to the gravy ladle.”