Three in the morning after a heavy night, Rome goes quiet in a way it never manages otherwise — no traffic, porch lights burning, the streetlamp glow bouncing back up off six inches of new snow. Sam's Snow Removal is out in it: driveways opened, walks cut through to the steps, the apron by the road cleared a second time after the city plow throws it back. Snow here carries weight, the wet kind that falls when the thermometer hangs near thirty. Getting it moved before it sets up is the entire trick. By the time anyone is awake the drive is clear, and the morning simply goes ahead as normal.