“Deborah,” he said loudly, “it is time you passed the keys to the farm. Kayla and I need a strong start.”
The room went still in a way that felt physical. I heard a few nervous laughs, as if people hoped this was a joke they did not understand. I forced a smile and shook my head.
“No,” I replied calmly. “The farm is not given. It is earned. And it belongs to me.”
Brandon stepped closer, still holding the microphone, his smile stretched thin.
“Do not be difficult,” he said. “You should want to help us. Do not be selfish.”
I stood. My legs trembled, but my back stayed straight.
“I am not being selfish,” I said. “I am being clear.”
I saw Kayla frozen beside him, confusion and shock battling across her face. She looked at him as if waiting for explanation, for reassurance. Instead, his hand moved.
The slap landed with a sound that cut through the room. I stumbled and struck a chair, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Silence crashed down, heavy and absolute. No music. No chatter. Just the truth, standing naked where celebration had been moments before.