Chapter 152

The bitter winter wind howled through the mountains. In an era where the average worker earned only thirty dollars a month, Michael Stone’s recent earnings surpassed a decade’s wages for most.

"The New Year’s approaching. Take some time to go to town for supplies, and bring your sister-in-law along," Samuel Bright said, rubbing his reddened hands. "I’ll be heading out with Michael in a few days."

"Again?" Amy Bright’s heart tightened.

"We’ll be back before the holiday," Samuel exhaled into his palms. "Business is best around this time. If anything comes up, go to your sister-in-law. After what happened with Peter Wilson, no one in the village dares cross her."

Amy still couldn’t believe it—the delicate Emily Johnson had actually sent Peter to jail.

"I’ll remember, brother."

Samuel worked faster, eyeing their adobe house with determination. Next year, they’d build a proper brick-tile home.

Knee-deep snow crunched underfoot as Daniel River and Michael trudged forward, only to spot a familiar figure.

"Ethan? What are you doing out here in this weather?"

The thin boy, bundled in threadbare layers, clutched a few dry branches. His toes, exposed through straw sandals, were purple with cold. He lifted his head. "I was hoping to find some frozen game..."

Michael frowned. "Come with us."

The trio pressed deeper into the forest. Ethan hesitated before asking, "Michael, I dried some kudzu root powder. Does Emily still want it?"

"She does." Michael’s lips curved at the memory of the crystal dumplings she’d made with it. "She says you’ve got skill."

Ethan’s eyes brightened. The food she’d traded him had kept him fed all winter.

Luck struck unexpectedly—a wild boar herd crossed their path. Holding their breath behind a tree, they targeted a straggler. By the time they finished, the sun hung low.

Back home, Emily had just put the children to bed. The wind wailed outside as she prepared to extinguish the kerosene lamp—until a soft knock sounded at the gate.

"Michael?" Gripping the lamp, she steeled herself and opened the door.

Three snow-covered figures stood in the storm.

"Emily..."

"Sister-in-law!"

The two men and the boy were caked in snow, bloodied game in hand. Emily hurried them inside and bolted the gate.

"Mommy, is that Daddy?" Tommy’s sleepy voice drifted from the bedroom.

"Go back to sleep!" Emily hissed. "No one gets up, or you’ll be drinking bitter medicine if you catch cold!"