Noah discovered it three days later.
He hadn't been searching for financial records. He wanted a pen, and the kitchen drawer was empty. While moving the breadbox to retrieve a pencil that had rolled behind it, he saw the envelope.
The words past due caught his attention.
He read enough to understand that the farm was in trouble.
Then he quietly put everything back.
That evening, he watched his mother prepare dinner.
She made scrambled eggs and fried potatoes.
Normally, Noah loved them.
But he barely touched his plate.
Grace noticed.
βSomething wrong?β
He shook his head.
βNo, ma'am.β
She studied him.
βAre you feeling sick?β
βNo.β
βThen what's going on?β
For several seconds, he looked toward the table.
Finally, he whispered, βAre we going to lose Grandpa's farm?β
Grace stopped moving.
The fork in her hand hung above her plate.
For a moment, she seemed unable to answer.
Then she set it down.
βWhy are you asking?β
Noah looked toward the breadbox.
She followed his gaze.
Her expression changed.
βOh, honey.β
He swallowed.
βI saw the letter.β
Grace closed her eyes.
She hadn't intended to hide the situation forever. She simply wanted to protect him from problems he couldn't solve.
But now he knew.
And she didn't want to lie.
βWe're behind,β she said quietly. βI've been talking to the lender about our options.β
Noah looked up.
βHow much?β
She hesitated.
Then told him.
The number seemed enormous.
Thirty-eight thousand six hundred dollars.
He tried imagining that much money spread across the table.
He'd never held more than a few hundred dollars at once.
He looked toward the window.
βCould we sell the tractor?β
Grace shook her head.
βThe tractor isn't worth enough to solve the problem, and we still need it.β
βWhat about the old truck?β
βWe could consider it, but we'd need another way to get supplies.β
Noah fell silent.
Then asked, βWhat if I grow something?β