Seven months earlier, Naomi had been standing in a rented apartment in Dearing, staring at the last document from her divorce.
The settlement was final.
Her marriage was over.
And the comfortable life she'd spent almost a decade trying to build had disappeared into a collection of legal papers, moving boxes, and arguments about money.
She had married young.
At twenty-four, she'd believed love and determination would be enough to carry two people through any difficulty.
Her husband was charming when they met.
He talked about building a family, owning a home, and giving their future children opportunities neither of them had enjoyed growing up.
For several years, the marriage seemed stable.
They had two children.
Malik, who was now nine.
And Zuri, who was six.
Naomi worked for the municipal water authority, examining usage reports, pressure irregularities, and accounts whose measurements didn't match expected patterns.
Her husband moved between several businesses.
Some succeeded briefly.
Others failed.
Eventually, his debts grew beyond what Naomi understood.
By the time she discovered the extent of the financial problems, their savings were almost gone.
The divorce was painful rather than spectacular.
There was no dramatic confrontation.
No single betrayal that explained everything.
Only years of decisions that gradually destroyed the trust between them.
When the papers were signed in March, Naomi felt more exhausted than angry.
She had primary responsibility for the children during the school year, a difficult budget, and no desire to spend the rest of her life fighting over possessions she could no longer afford to keep.
Then she remembered the farm.
Forty acres in southern Halbert County.
A white farmhouse.
An aging barn.
Several fenced pastures.
And a dark half-acre pond in the lowest corner of the property.
The land had belonged to her grandmother, Ruthie Vance.
Ruthie bought it in 1961, when few people believed a young widow with almost no money could maintain a working farm alone.
She raised children there.
Grew vegetables.
Kept livestock.
And refused more than one offer from neighboring landowners who wanted to absorb the property into larger operations.
When Ruthie died, the land passed through Naomi's mother and eventually became Naomi's responsibility.
For years, Naomi paid the property taxes without visiting.
She told herself she would eventually decide what to do with it.
Now the decision had been made for her.