Five Years Ago
The farm stirs to life. c***s crow. The horses champ. Farm-hands pull on rough working clothes and from the farmhouse, the scent and sizzle of bacon emerge.
Brett makes his way to breakfast, but as he passes the stables, pulls up short. “Chad? What are you doing? That’s Jenny’s job. Is she ill?”
Chad tosses the fork into a straw bale, taking the handles of a wheelbarrow destined for the muck-heap. “Jenny’s gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
Chad puts the barrow down, grief on his face. “What part of the word ‘gone’ don’t you understand? She’s left.”
“She won’t be coming back?”
“No. She won’t.”
Brett digests this then, “She didn’t say anything, didn’t say goodbye to everyone, but you knew?”
Chad shudders a sigh, only a heartbeat from tears. “She wanted to go. She
