Chap­ter 58 of If These Wings Could Fly begins with an atmos­phere of qui­et reflec­tion after a tumul­tuous night. Although the protagonist’s moth­er has man­aged to restore their home to some sem­blance of nor­mal­cy, it’s clear that both the emo­tion­al and phys­i­cal scars of the recent events linger. The sense of dis­com­fort is tan­gi­ble, and the week­end feels long and oppres­sive, marked by silence and an unspo­ken ten­sion. Despite the home’s restora­tion, their father con­tin­ues to assert con­trol, hold­ing onto the phone and keys, effec­tive­ly restrict­ing the family’s free­dom. This con­trol leaves the pro­tag­o­nist feel­ing trapped, unable to act, and reluc­tant to chal­lenge the sit­u­a­tion, ampli­fy­ing the pow­er­less­ness that defines their cur­rent exis­tence. The chap­ter paints a pic­ture of an emo­tion­al­ly sti­fling envi­ron­ment where even sim­ple acts of resis­tance feel out of reach, adding to the sense of iso­la­tion and help­less­ness that per­vades the house­hold.

As the pro­tag­o­nist engages in writ­ing a crow-themed col­umn, the nar­ra­tive shifts toward a more reflec­tive tone, delv­ing into Celtic mythol­o­gy and the sym­bol­ism of the Mor­ri­g­an, the god­dess of fate and death, often depict­ed as a crow. This mytho­log­i­cal fig­ure serves as a pow­er­ful back­drop, mir­ror­ing the pro­tag­o­nist’s grow­ing sense of fore­bod­ing and anx­i­ety. The pres­ence of crows out­side their win­dow, block­ing out the sun in a dark, chaot­ic swarm, serves as a stark visu­al metaphor for the emo­tion­al tur­moil the pro­tag­o­nist feels. The crows’ omi­nous pres­ence is com­pound­ed by the local government’s deci­sion to address the crow sit­u­a­tion, hint­ing at an impend­ing change in the town. This deci­sion reflects the town’s dis­com­fort with the nat­ur­al world, posi­tion­ing the crows as a sym­bol of the town’s broad­er issues. The grow­ing ten­sion in Auburn is sig­naled through this inter­ven­tion, under­scor­ing how the seem­ing­ly innocu­ous can take on deep­er, more sym­bol­ic mean­ing. As the crows’ days in the town are num­bered, so too are the days of the cur­rent equi­lib­ri­um, sug­gest­ing that change is on the hori­zon, both for the pro­tag­o­nist and their com­mu­ni­ty.

A moment of dis­trac­tion shifts the nar­ra­tive as a gust of wind scat­ters papers across the desk, lead­ing to the dis­cov­ery of a pink fly­er about a schol­ar­ship con­test with a fast-approach­ing dead­line. This fly­er acts as a sym­bol­ic turn­ing point, rep­re­sent­ing the dual­i­ty of pride—pride that hides uncom­fort­able truths and fos­ters an atmos­phere where silence becomes the default response to injus­tice. The pro­tag­o­nist reflects on how pride runs deep in Auburn, where the com­mu­ni­ty’s focus on main­tain­ing appear­ances often leads to a lack of account­abil­i­ty. The cit­i­zens of Auburn pre­fer to avoid address­ing dif­fi­cult issues, oper­at­ing under the belief that these mat­ters are “none of our busi­ness.” This mind­set, root­ed in the desire to avoid con­flict, sti­fles mean­ing­ful con­ver­sa­tions and allows the prob­lems with­in the com­mu­ni­ty to fes­ter. The pro­tag­o­nist’s recog­ni­tion of this social dynam­ic becomes a crit­i­cal moment of self-aware­ness, where they acknowl­edge the role pride plays in per­pet­u­at­ing an envi­ron­ment where indi­vid­u­als feel dis­con­nect­ed from the real­i­ty of their sur­round­ings. The grow­ing real­iza­tion of this tox­ic pride deep­ens the protagonist’s sense of frus­tra­tion, as they wit­ness how this mind­set con­tributes to the silenc­ing of those in need and the avoid­ance of nec­es­sary change.

The chap­ter con­cludes with the pro­tag­o­nist prepar­ing to write a pow­er­ful the­sis for their col­umn: “It is not the crows that make Auburn ugly.” This state­ment encap­su­lates the cen­tral theme of the chap­ter, draw­ing a direct line between the town’s out­ward appear­ance and the deep­er, more insid­i­ous issues that lie beneath the sur­face. The crows, in their sym­bol­ic form, are not the true source of Auburn’s prob­lems; rather, it is the social envi­ron­ment that fos­ters denial, repres­sion, and avoid­ance of dif­fi­cult truths. By pin­point­ing this, the pro­tag­o­nist hints at the larg­er nar­ra­tive to come—one that will explore the ugli­ness of the town’s under­ly­ing social issues and the con­se­quences of a com­mu­ni­ty that refus­es to con­front its flaws. This rev­e­la­tion adds depth to the chap­ter, as it chal­lenges the read­er to rethink the way per­cep­tion shapes real­i­ty and how the refusal to acknowl­edge uncom­fort­able truths can per­pet­u­ate an envi­ron­ment where change is not just dif­fi­cult, but often impos­si­ble. The protagonist’s grow­ing aware­ness of these dynam­ics sets the stage for a deep­er explo­ration of their own role in the unfold­ing nar­ra­tive and the ways in which their actions may help uncov­er the truth about Auburn’s strug­gles.