You’re up late again, working on getting salmonberries into the preserve jars. Harvey’s been begging you to rest, as you’ve already been working so much just getting the spring crops planted, but you’re stubborn. He keeps telling you it’s bad for you, listing things like reduced immune response and something about blood pressure, but you’re too stubborn to listen.

He’s in the living room working on a model airplane, waiting for you to finally come to bed.

The clock strikes two in the morning. You’re sliding the last of the berries into the jars when a sudden wave of dizziness rushes over you, and you feel your knees going out.