Months passed in a blink.
Yet nothing ever returned to how it had been.
Since that day, Fay lived with a constant ache lodged deep in her chest, the weight of his absence settled deep within her, turning even the simplest daily tasks into quiet battles. She moved through her days on sheer will, her eyes long dry from crying, her chest tight with a constant, aching pressure that never faded.
The families grew colder than before. This time, even Dominic was nowhere to be found. The only one who checked on Fay and Sally was Dominic's wife, Elena. She came often, sometimes brought provisions; other times, just to talk to Fay about random things.
During Fay's darker episodes, when she just sit in the room to cry, Elena took care of Sally without complaint, giving her space to be.
Fay eventually quit her job as a library assistant, despite Becky's strong objections. Becky pleaded, but Fay no longer had the strength to sit behind a desk pretending to be fine.
Still, life demanded money. So she turned to the land Ray had left behind, cultivating part of it herself and renting out the rest. It was enough to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.
The only times Fay truly smiled were out on the land. Working the soil occupied her thoughts, and Sally's clumsy planting, seeds tossed too close together, dirt smeared across her face, endless silly comments, lightened her mood. Becky, too, often dragged her out for fresh air, refusing to let her lock herself in everytime.
But sometimes, the absence of Ray clung to every corner, often leaving Fay sitting still for hours, staring into nothing.
One afternoon, during a long farming day at noon when the sun burned brightest, Fay finished planting and sat with Sally to eat lunch. They rested in a small shed built for breaks, a wooden bench facing the wide stretch of land. The tenant farmers worked quietly in their individual plots, and above them, the blue sky stretched endlessly, yet peaceful.
Fay laid out a blanket and began serving their meal.
Sally was the first to spot the black Bentley speeding, kicking up dust and debris.
Fay handed her a piece of toast, but when Sally didn't take it, she followed her gaze.
The car slowed and came to a halt not far from them, already on the land. The driver stepped out and opened the back door. Dominic emerged, followed by a sharp-dressed man who look every bit a lawyer, and behind him, an elderly man leaning on a finely crafted walking stick, polished and clearly expensive.
Fay stood, confusion flickering across her face. She smoothed her clothes instinctively and walked toward them. Sally ran ahead, breaking into a bright smile.
"Uncle!" she called out innocently.
Dominic returned the smile, cheeky, familiar, but said nothing.
Fay watched as the elderly man moved past them, surveying the land as though it already belonged to him. Some of the tenant farmers paused to look before returning to work.
"It's been a while,"
Fay said to Dominic, her tone polite but guarded.
"Yes," he replied lightly.
"I see you're managing well with the little one."
Before Fay could respond, the elderly man spoke, stepping closer.
"It is just as I remembered," he said, eyes roaming the field before settling on her. "And you look just as I remember, too."
The look made Fay uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, drawing Sally behind her while holding her hand firmly. Sally, curious as ever, peeked out again.
"What is this about, Dominic?" Fay asked quietly.
"This is Mr. Frederick," he said. "You should remember him."
And then it clicked.
He was the father of the woman Ray had almost been forced to marry. The same man who had once tried to pressure Fay into leaving Ray. The memory of his arrogance, and that same unsettling stare, came rushing back.
"He's here to examine the land."
"What…?"
Fay whispered, confusion clouding her face.
"Well," Dominic said calmly, "I don't know if you're aware, sister-in-law, but this land is under Mr. Frederick's name and should now be returned to its rightful owner."
"Wait, what are you saying?" Fay snapped.
"Since when did this land belong to an outsider?"
Mr. Frederick sighed, adjusting his grip on the ornate walking stick.
"My condolences," he said smoothly. "But I see you and your husband were not as close as you seem. It was when you were in labour, I think. Ray came to see me then. He needed money for your medical care."
Fay stiffened.
"With our history," he continued, "I couldn't simply hand him money. I needed a guaranty. He signed this land over as collateral."
"I expected repayment," Mr. Frederick added lightly, "but he never contacted me again. And now… well, you know."
"That's not true," Fay said sharply.
"Ray wouldn't, he didn't come to you. He borrowed money from his workplace. We struggled and paid it back together. Dominic, you know this."
"That's what you were told," Dominic replied evenly. "You know Ray. He wouldn't want you to feel burdened. What Mr. Frederick said is the truth. I was there when the documents were signed."
"No… no, that's a lie,"
"Then where did all the money went"
Fay shook her head, stumbling back. Sally rushed to her side, her small body trying to support her mother.
"Uncle," Sally said suddenly, glaring up at Dominic, "Mommy is sick. Can you please leave her alone?"
Dominic ignored her. He turned and accepted a folder from the lawyer standing behind him, then held it out to Fay.
"These are the documents. You can check for yourself. Ray signed them."
With trembling hands, Fay snatched the papers and scanned them, once, twice, until her breath caught. The signature at the bottom was unmistakable.
She looked up at Dominic. Then at Mr. Frederick. Then back at Dominic.
Rip!
The sound tore through the air as she shredded the documents, once, twice, again, until paper fluttered to the ground like broken feathers.
"No!" she cried. "I don't know how you got these, but I trust Ray. He would never do this!"
"Fay!"
"Even at his lowest, he wouldn't go back to this man after everything we went through!" She turned to Dominic, voice cracking. "This is your brother's land. Ray's land! You're going to hand it over to outsiders?"
Mr. Frederick clicked his tongue.
"Disbelief is natural. It will pass. But etiquette must be observed. I sympathise with your loss, Mrs. Davis, but business is business. I require my land now."
He cast her one last smug glance before turning away. The driver rushed to open the car door.
"You'll need to submit the appropriate paperwork," the lawyer added, following him. "I'll be in touch."
Fay stood frozen, her mind blank, her body numb.
"It isn't as bad as you think," Dominic said as he prepared to leave. "You'll be compensated for the crops, out of Mr. Frederick's goodwill, of course."
She didn't respond. She only watched as Dominic entered the car and it drove away.
"Mommy?" Sally tugged at her sleeve.
No answer.
The tenant workers, who had gathered during the confrontation, rushed forward once the car disappeared.
"Mrs. Davis, what happens now?" an older man asked. "We've paid for this land. Our crops, our work, will it all be wasted?"
"That's right," another cried. "We've already paid you!"
"My family survives on this," someone said desperately.
"What do we do if the land is taken?"
"I have a pregnant wife."
"I take care of my parents."
Voices overlapped, hands brushed against her, some shoving in panic.
Sally stepped in front of Fay, spreading her arms wide.
"Please stop!"
she shouted, but her small voice drowned in the noise.
Fay's head spun. The world tilted. She tried to focus on Sally, tried to tell her to move back, but her daughter's shape blurred, colours bleeding into one another.
Then everything went dark.
Fay collapsed.