“Where’d you find this?” I asked.

“In the historical archive behind the main library,” Nora said.

“It was filed with the old farm drainage records from before the cul-de-sac went in.”

“Harry brought his son here to shove me off this strip,” I said.

“He needs the land for his golf cart driveway extension,” Nora said.

“Without this easement, his paving permit’s worthless.”

“He figured a retired corporate auditor wouldn’t go digging through forty years of township records,” I said.

Nora flattened the corner of the map with her palm.