Kurt stopped dead, sweeping his flashlight across the dirt path until the bright circle landed on my face.

I stepped out into the light of the open field, leaving the white oak’s shadow behind.

“Get that light out of my face, Kurt,” I said, my voice steady across the frosty cornstalks.

Kurt dropped the beam at once, his brow creasing as he looked at me and then at Dale.

“Amy?” Kurt said.

“What are you doing out here at six thirty in the morning?”

“I’m standing on my grandfather’s land,” I said.