“I’m on the line with Kelsey right now,” I said, holding up the cell phone.

I tapped the screen and put her on speaker.

Her ragged breathing filled the quiet kitchen.

“Dad?” Kelsey’s voice came through the speaker, tiny and sharp. “Are you there?”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Harold said.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a familiar disappointment.

“I told her I’d come talk to you,” he said to the phone.

“Tell her, Dad,” Kelsey sobbed. “Tell her what Trevor said.”

Harold took off his damp cap and held it in his hands, squeezing the brim.

“Meredith,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “You have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Dad,” I said. “This is my property.”

“It’s your family,” he said.

He stepped closer to the wood stove, seeking the warmth.

“Kelsey and Trevor are in deep,” he said. “They made some mistakes, sure. But Trevor is desperate.”

“Trevor is a crook,” I said.

“Don’t say that,” Kelsey yelled from the speaker. “He’s my husband!”

“He’s a man trying to provide,” Harold corrected me. “He took a gamble, and it didn’t pay off because you’re blocking the road.”