The rolling hills were covered in a blanket of dry, golden grass.

In the distance, the Blue Ridge Mountains rose up against the grey sky.

I walked down the steps and onto the gravel path.

My boots crunched softly in the quiet afternoon.

I walked past the old stable, where the horses used to be kept.

The wood of the barn doors was weathered to a soft, silver-grey.

I reached the edge of the woods and stopped.

A large red oak tree stood at the boundary line.

Its branches were thick and gnarled, reaching toward the clouds.

I placed my hand against the rough bark of the tree.

The wood felt cold and solid under my palm.

“It is over,” I whispered.

The wind blew through the upper branches, making the dry leaves rattle.

It sounded like a soft sigh of relief.

Over the next few weeks, the news of the scandal spread through the county.

The local newspapers ran stories about the prominent Vance family.

The headlines detailed the forged documents and the fraudulent loans.

Graham was denied bail due to the scale of the financial fraud.