PART 3
I raised an eyebrow.
“A map?”
“A survey recorded with the county is worth more than family stories.”
Those words stayed with me.
Worth more than family stories.
Because my family had always confused the two.
At exactly 10:57 a.m., two vehicles turned onto my gravel driveway.
The first was Dara’s white SUV.
The second was a dark blue sedan with county plates.
My stomach tightened.