Dad said he hadn’t been certain about the boundary markers until the third day. Once he confirmed everything, he deliberately kept me uninformed because he knew Aldric might threaten my livelihood. If I genuinely knew nothing, my reactions at work couldn’t betray Dad’s plan. Thirty years in business had taught him that the calmest person during a threat was usually the one who already knew exactly how the morning would end. Aldric apparently understood his position too. Within forty-eight hours, he paid Dad the entire $8,400. His attorney called Dad directly. Coralie never called at all.

I resigned from Aldric’s company the following week. He hadn’t fired me; I simply couldn’t continue working somewhere my livelihood could be used as leverage against my family. Dad never celebrated what happened. He repaired the pool, collected every dollar he was owed, and moved on. But before doing so, he called Loretta and gave her everything she needed to finally address the property issue she had been waiting thirty years to resolve. He never charged her for that call. That was Dad. He wasn’t interested in revenge or victory speeches. Once something was settled, he considered it finished. Aldric had tried to make my job the price of Dad’s debt. Instead, an eighteen-inch mistake buried in concrete for decades became the thing that finally forced him to pay.