The Hidden Lines of the Family Land We Shared

screws had been pried apart, leaving pale yellow splinters scattered over the dirt.

“Someone was in a hurry,” Marcus said, his slow drawl sounding unusually loud in the quiet orchard.

“My brother,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I touched the ruined wood. “He must have been looking for the original maps.”

“They didn’t get inside,” Marcus said,continue reading …