Patricia sat behind her oak desk in a dark blue tailored blazer, her graying hair pinned up neatly.

She took off her reading glasses and folded them neatly on top of her case file.

“The county records are perfectly clear, Amy,” Patricia said, aiming her pen at the top page.

“The title is entirely in your name, free and unencumbered.

Brad doesn’t own any part of those eighty acres.”

“He put his own lock on my south gate today,” I said.

“He put up a trail camera pointed at my driveway.”