Mr. Dalton did.
“Based on recovered monuments and record evidence, legal deed line follows older alignment.”
“The existing Briggs fence encroaches.”
“Preliminary calculated area about eighteen-point-two-seven acres.”
Sarah covered mouth.
Everett did not smile.
Not yet.
There was another problem.
Mr. Dalton explained.
“Survey establishes record boundary.”
“Possession history may create separate legal questions.”
“Adverse possession.”
Everett had never heard.
Sarah had.
Her face tightened.
Harold’s family had used land more than forty years.
If possession had been open, notorious, exclusive, continuous, hostile under claim of right for statutory period, they might claim title even if fence wrong.
The surveyor was not lawyer.
“Talk to counsel.”
Sarah looked at Everett.
The boy’s excitement evaporated.
“Then finding pin doesn’t matter?”
“It matters a lot.”
“But they could keep?”
“Maybe.”
“Depends.”
Everett hated that word.
Maybe.
Adults used when truth existed but cost money.
That evening Harold came.
Alone.
He did not enter house.
Sarah met on porch.
Everett listened from kitchen.
Harold held folded paper.
“I heard.”
Sarah crossed arms.
“County surveyor called you?”
“Called both affected owners.”
“Fine.”
Harold looked toward creek.
“I’m willing to settle.”
Sarah almost laughed.
“Already?”
“Why drag.”
“What settlement?”
He held paper.
“I’ll move fence halfway.”
“You keep nine acres?”
“You get nine.”
“It isn't split baby.”
Harold’s jaw tightened.
“We've maintained pasture forty years.”
Sarah said:
“On our land.”
“Your father never stopped.”
“Maybe.”
“He never sued.”
“He told me enough.”
“What?”
Sarah did not answer.
Harold watched.
“The notebook?”
She looked.
He knew.
That confirmed even more.
“You knew about notebook.”
“I knew your father was obsessed with old line.”
“Different.”
“Not really.”
“Why did your father move fence?”
Harold’s face changed.
“Flood destroyed.”
“Why not rebuild old?”
“Ground unstable.”
“Then why not tell my father?”
“He knew.”
“What did he say?”
Harold hesitated.
Everett stepped into doorway.
“He charged your dad.”
Both adults turned.
The boy held notebook.
Sarah frowned.