We would lose the white farmhouse to absentee renters.

The property would be gone by sunset.

“Three hundred five thousand is bid,” Denny said loudly.

“Fair warning to all buyers.”

The rep tapped his phone screen twice and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

Denny raised his wooden gavel high in the freezing air.

“Are we all done?” Denny asked.

The man from Grand Island met my eyes across the yard.