Chapter 7: The Town Turns

The parents then argued in the parking lot behind the VFW, voices carrying over the sound of cicadas and the clink of beer bottles, each laying out their side, telling the whole story, asking everyone to judge whether they should have to pay. Old grudges bubbled to the surface, spilling over in public.

Then some bystanders, eager for drama, egged them on: “If that’s how it is, you really shouldn’t have to pay. But the money’s already with the Grant family, so go ask them for it.” The old men leaned on their canes, women whispered behind cupped hands, and teenagers hovered on the sidewalk, taking it all in.

“Yeah, yeah, every debt has its debtor—ask them for your money, and let them go after whoever else.” The town was small enough that everyone felt entitled to an opinion.

It was obvious: no one dared to cross the McClure family, so they pushed all the trouble onto the orphaned Grant family. Easier to pick on the weak than challenge the powerful, especially in a place where alliances were drawn in blood and rumor.

So these idiots, egged on by the crowd, went off to the Grant family’s house. Their footsteps echoed on the cracked sidewalk, heavy with resentment and desperation.