"Absolutely."

"Why didn't anyone tell us?"

"Because the enforcement provisions require a family representative to activate them."

My heart started pounding.

Then she said something even more incredible.

"Every local action against the property that conflicts with the trust provisions can be challenged."

There was more.

The trust included an emergency defense fund.

Money deposited in 1924.

After nearly a century of growth, it was worth close to $400,000.

For the first time in three years, I felt something other than exhaustion.

I felt hope.

But Vivian had already crossed another line.

Sabotage

It began with the water line.

Someone cut it.

Then my tractor tires were slashed.

My irrigation controls were destroyed.

Fence posts were loosened.

Cattle wandered onto the road.

Then my cameras captured two men dumping industrial containers near my property.

The next morning, Vivian submitted an anonymous environmental complaint.

I almost admired the stupidity.

Almost.

When State Inspector Marcus Delacro arrived, I showed him everything.

He watched the footage.

License plates.

Faces.

Timestamps.

Every detail.

His expression changed.

"This isn't contamination," he said.

"No."

"It's staging."

He filed his report with the State Attorney General.

Then came Friday night.

Someone knocked on my door.

Richmond Blackthorne.

Vivian's husband.

He carried a briefcase.