Chapter 3

The next morning, a message from Robert.

"Ethan is considering pulling out of the franchise investment. If he does, the bank takes the farm. Your mother' s orchard... it' ll be gone. Paved over. You need to convince him, Sarah. It' s the only way."

Her mother' s heirloom apple orchard. The one place she felt her mother' s presence. Already heavily mortgaged. Now, this. Blackmail.

Sarah drove aimlessly, ending up in Brooklyn. She found a small, bustling coffee shop. The noise was a welcome distraction.

She ordered a black coffee, her hands shaking.

"Rough day?"

A man stood beside her at the counter. He was in his early thirties, lean, with kind eyes and a worn t-shirt that said "Ramirez Boxing."

He smiled, a genuine, easy smile.

"I' m Mike," he said, extending a hand.

"Sarah," she replied, surprised she could still speak.

"You look like you could use this more than me," he said, pushing his own untouched coffee towards her. "On the house. Well, on me, anyway."

She managed a weak smile. "Thank you."

"If you ever need to talk, or just punch something, I own a gym down the street." He scribbled a number on a napkin. "Mike Ramirez. Coffee' s good, but hitting a bag is better for stress."

He gave her a small nod and left.

Sarah stared at the napkin. A tiny, unexpected flicker of warmth.

She had to call Ethan. For the orchard.

She dialed his number, her heart heavy.