In Chap­ter Fifty-Four of “If These Wings Could Fly,” the pro­tag­o­nist, Leighton, enters her home, feel­ing hes­i­tance as she expe­ri­ences the under­ly­ing ten­sion in the atmos­phere. Her fam­i­ly appears gath­ered in the liv­ing room, with her par­ents, along with Camp­bell and Juniper, engag­ing in a casu­al movie night. The sight of her par­ents cozy­ing up trig­gers a painful response with­in her, empha­siz­ing the strain in their dynam­ics. As her moth­er invites Leighton to join, she learns they have can­celed cable, show­cas­ing a sense of guilt that her father seems to car­ry.

Leighton offers to make pop­corn, a ges­ture meant to con­tribute to a sem­blance of nor­mal­cy. In the kitchen, her father helps her with the pop­corn machine, and they engage in con­ver­sa­tion about an upcom­ing foot­ball game where Liam, her boyfriend, will be play­ing. Despite the pres­sure sur­round­ing the game and her father’s acknowl­edg­ment of it, their exchange feels ten­ta­tive as Leighton attempts to bridge the gap between them. His response to her attempts at con­nec­tion is sub­dued, con­vey­ing dis­ap­point­ment over work, reveal­ing lay­ers of emo­tion­al com­plex­i­ty.

After their brief inter­ac­tion, Leighton retreats to her room, seek­ing solace. Her peace is inter­rupt­ed by Joe, a bird who has become a pecu­liar com­pan­ion. Instead of wait­ing for him to leave, she eager­ly opens her win­dow, show­cas­ing her will­ing­ness to engage with him. Joe drops a small rust­ed key onto her floor, adding to her grow­ing col­lec­tion of trin­kets from her feath­ered friend.

As she reflects on her sur­round­ings and the crows that dom­i­nate the town’s skies, she rec­og­nizes their per­sis­tence and resilience. Though they have tak­en over the land­scape, fill­ing the air with their pres­ence, Leighton feels an unex­pect­ed affec­tion for them. The crows sym­bol­ize a defi­ance that res­onates with her own strug­gles, mark­ing them as a con­tin­u­al reminder of the real­i­ties she faces, empha­siz­ing her desire for acknowl­edg­ment and con­nec­tion in a world that often seeks to ignore pain.