recognize as the rarest kind of domestic choreography—rooms that unfold rather than simply open. Here in Carrollton, where the Ohio River bends wide enough to make every estate feel like its own parish, that same unhurried sequencing governs the family wing's first threshold, where the millwork deepens from painted trim to stained walnut and the ceiling drops just enough to signal intimacy without sacrificing the volume that made the public rooms so commanding. The corridor's eastern windows frame pastureland in a way that Cary buyers often chase but seldom