CHAPTER SEVEN

I remain silent and allow him to elaborate on his "favor." From how he walks and moves, I can tell he is uncomfortable asking for help.

"I need some extra time to do the farm evaluation. Here we go, then! I wish he had been more interested in Coprophilia.

"Why is that?" I lose it; I can't keep my temper from flaring. I had a sudden pang of guilt, wondering whether he tried to sleep with me to get this favor.

To the papers before him, he averts his gaze. I'm not in the best place mentally; my dad passed away a month ago, and I've been left to cope with everything on my own.

I knew a farm was changing ownership, but I didn't know it was this one. There was no acceptable reason to fall behind in work; problems at home were not acceptable, nor were the inherent dangers of working on a farm.

The speaker said, "Look, I don't believe we can - "

Just ignore my question; it's none of my business. Perhaps a disastrous first evaluation is needed to prove to everyone that "I can do this."

As his