Chapter 6: Fire, Sacrifice, and Second Chances

Looking around, it was clear everyone believed the rumors.

The crowd watched, hungry for drama. I could feel their judgment pressing in, suffocating.

Gossip is terrifying, especially in a small town where everyone talks.

It spreads like wildfire, burning through reputations and families alike. I felt the heat of their stares, the weight of their words.

I pulled Mom and Uncle:

I gathered them close, shielding them from the worst of it. My voice shook, but I refused to let them see my fear.

"Enough! Liars get what’s coming!"

No wonder people had looked at me strangely on the street. This was the reason.

The realization hit me like a punch. I’d been so focused on survival, I hadn’t seen the storm brewing around us.

Thinking of Dr. Perry’s hesitant look, he must have heard the rumors too.

A knot formed in my stomach. Even the people I trusted weren’t immune to gossip.

I stormed onto the street, with kids shouting behind me:

Their voices chased me, cruel and relentless. I kept my head high, refusing to let them see me break.

"Slut! Widow Goodwin is a slut!"

Standing in the middle of the street, I looked at the onlookers. A nameless fear rose in my heart.

Their eyes were cold, unblinking. I felt like prey, trapped and alone.

This place was like a hell that chews people up. People could kill you with just their looks and words.

The air was thick with judgment, every whisper a dagger. I wanted to run, to hide, but I stood my ground.

A suffocating feeling overwhelmed me.

My chest tightened, breath coming in short gasps. I fought to stay upright, to keep from collapsing under the weight of their hatred.

I looked at Mom and Uncle. I knew I had to explain to them.

They looked lost, scared. I owed them the truth.

Back home, I closed the gate, sat them down, and told them everything that happened yesterday:

I spoke slowly, choosing my words carefully. I wanted them to understand, to trust me.

"I left in a hurry, lost my coat in the ditch, so don’t believe what people say. As long as we live well, the better we live, the more we’ll shut their mouths!"

Mom looked at me, eyes brimming with tears:

She grabbed my hand, squeezing hard.

"Mom, I won’t go to school, don’t worry about money, I can help on the farm, I can cook, and sell extra corn after harvest."

By the end, Mom was choked with emotion.

Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face. I pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

"Mom, I won’t go to school either, I can help at home!" Uncle echoed.

He looked up at me, eyes shining with determination. For the first time, I saw the man he could become.

So Uncle could be so sensible too.

I felt a surge of pride, hope flickering in my chest.

I squatted down to look at them eye to eye:

I wanted them to see the truth in my eyes, to know I believed in them.

"Mariah, Tyler, you see what kind of people live in this town."

"Don’t you want to leave? Go to the county, the city, or even farther—see the outside world. I don’t want you to become like them, repeating the same life every day, gossiping at the diner."

"Do you understand? I don’t want you to become like them."

Mom nodded hard, Uncle nodded too.

Their eyes shone with hope, the first real spark I’d seen in days.

I took their hands and squeezed tightly:

I held on, refusing to let go. We were in this together, come hell or high water.

"I believe we’ll get through this. There’s always a way! Let’s not give up!"

Mom’s eyes shone, encouraged by me, full of hope again.

Her smile was shaky, but real. For the first time, I believed we could make it.

Suddenly, I remembered Mom called that fat boy Eddie Carter. Uncle seemed to have gone bad hanging out with Eddie Carter.

A chill ran down my spine. I knew I had to act fast, to keep Tyler from going down the wrong path.

"Tyler, don’t play with Eddie Carter and his gang anymore, okay?"

Uncle nodded vigorously, "I promise."

His voice was steady, his eyes clear. I believed him.

The next day, Dr. Perry brought someone who wanted to rent the land. His name was Randy Hobbs. He looked like a strong worker, dark-skinned and muscular.

He shook my hand with a firm grip, his eyes kind but wary. I could tell he was used to hard work, to fighting for every dollar.

I proposed that for the first year, I wanted cash, and after that, corn as rent. Randy hesitated. He didn’t have cash, so I compromised and took corn.

We shook on it, sealing the deal with a nod. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

At worst, I’d sell it at the market.

I made a mental note to check prices, to make sure we wouldn’t get shortchanged.

With the field sorted, I told them I wanted to break open a gate in the house wall.

They looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but I explained my plan. A storefront, right on the street—easy access, more customers.

Randy said he could do it—he’d built houses before. Soon, he found two helpers and said more hands would get it done faster.