“The answer is no,” I said.

“Meredith, please,” my mother sobbed, her hand dropping from Trevor’s arm.

“Mom, he lied to you,” I said. “He knew this land couldn’t be developed this way when he took your money.”

“That’s a lie,” Trevor said, but his fingers were clenching the edge of the clipboard so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Then show me the approved county permits,” I said.

He didn’t move.

“Show me the environmental impact waiver,” I said.

The silence between us was filled only by the rumbling of the flatbed truck’s engine.

My mother looked at Trevor, waiting for him to speak, but he kept his eyes on me.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Trevor said quietly.

“I know how to read a zoning map,” I said.

“This isn’t over,” he said. “The court hearing for the partition sale is on Monday.”

“The judge won’t grant a partition if the development plans are invalid,” I said.

Trevor smiled, a thin, sharp line. “You think Judge Whitaker cares about trout streams?”

“He cares about the law,” I said.