Chapter 2

"You're a girl. You'll get married sooner or later, so what's all this about starting a business? It's absolute nonsense! You'd be better off handing the money over to your cousin. Once he's married, then our family's big worry will finally be settled."

"Uncle Leslie, I have no plans to get married right now. Besides, who says a woman can't start a business?"

"I came back this time to build a bed-and-breakfast here in our hometown and get into tourism."

"Actually, I've got a question for you. You built a house on my homestead plot—how come you never said a word to me about it?"

Leslie flew into a rage.

He glared at me. "I'm building a house on my own family's land. Do I need to tell you?"

"Uncle Leslie, your house sits right in the middle of both our plots, and half of it takes up my homestead. And you tore down my old family house on top of that, so you really did have to tell me."

"What do you mean, 'your homestead'? This is the Whitney family's homestead, and I'll take what I please!"

"Your old house was practically a wreck about to collapse. I tore it down to do you a favor, and I didn't even ask you for money!"

"Rosalie, your uncle is looking out for you. You said yourself you didn't even have a place to stay when you came back. Now the house is up, so you've got a home too, don't you?"

"Come on, come take a look at your room."

Leslie pointed to the triangular junk closet under the stairs. "There—that's the bedroom your uncle set aside specially for you."

I pushed open the door to that room. It was pitch dark, not a window in sight, reeking of mildew, and so cramped it couldn't even fit a single bed.

Leslie, being the eldest of the family, had never once been reasonable.

Back when my dad was alive, he was always trying to run our family's affairs.

Later my dad passed, my mom remarried, and I went to the city to work. He wanted to meddle in our family's business, but there was no way for him to get his hands in anymore.

Leslie was an elder, after all, so I didn't want to have an outright falling-out with him.

"Then I'll build the bed-and-breakfast on that plot beside yours. There's plenty of room."

"You want to build a bed-and-breakfast next to my house?"

"Yes. I came back this time to look the site over in person."

Leslie waved his hand.

"That won't do. We need that plot next door. You can't touch it!"

"Isn't your house already finished?"

"The house is finished, but you can't have a house with no yard!"

"Your wife wants to grow vegetables on that land, and she needs a stretch set aside to raise pigs and chickens. And once your cousin gets married and has kids, I'm planning to build a soccer field for the kids right there in our own yard."

"The family's tractor and car all need somewhere to park too. Oh, and I'm planning to put up a storage shed for goods."

Well, well. Leslie had my homestead all mapped out, down to the last detail.

He'd assigned a use to every single plot—the only thing he never considered was that this plot was mine.

"Uncle Leslie, seems to me you're still short on space. Why not just make use of Uncle Basil's plot too?"

We Whitneys have three homestead plots in all, joined together in a row.

My dad was the second of the three brothers, so the plot he was allotted was in the middle, with Leslie on one side and Basil on the other.

Originally none of us interfered with each other; we each lived quietly on our own plot.

After my father passed and I left to work in the city, Basil's family moved to the city too, and both of our homesteads sat empty.

Leslie had joined his own homestead to mine and mapped it all out neat and clear—yet he didn't dare take an inch of Basil's land.

He was afraid of Basil. Terrified of him.

Because Basil had once split Leslie's head open, and Leslie spent seven days in the ICU before he pulled through.

Marlene and my cousin called the police, dead set on putting Basil away.

But Basil had a history of mental illness, and in the end nothing came of it.

From then on, Leslie's family would go out of their way to avoid Basil whenever they laid eyes on him.