1226 Piedmont School Rd resided directly across the street from an enormous, private K-12 academia of the same name; the house serving as the poster child of the neighborhood’s median income to all who commuted to and from the institution. In front, the driveway curved in a half-circle, at just the perfect angle to make mom’s new E-class look pristine facing the road. Supplementing the view on either side, two Japanese Maples my father planted for my brother and I as a birthday present: one named after him, and the other after me. In the spring the leaves sprouted out from the branches with five tips, like hands reaching for the sun; in the fall they turned bright red, like a bouquet of roses before perishing. Against the backdrop of the brick