The Granger farm sprawled out across the dusty plains, its fences stretching beyond the eye could see. I’d been looking for steady work, and Jeb Granger had offered it—simple farmhand work, he’d said, “Nothin’ too fancy.” When I pulled up in my truck, Jeb was already there by the barn, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

Jeb: "So, you’re the one lookin’ for work," he said in his gravelly voice, eyes narrowing as he gave me a long, appraising look. "You got a strong back? Lotta hard work 'round here."

Me: “Yes, sir,” I nodded.

Jeb grunted approvingly, gesturing for me to follow him. As we walked toward the barn, I noticed a figure leaning against the doorframe. It was his daughter, Lila Mae—long brown hair, white shirt tucked into jeans, and that Stetson tilted just enough to shade her piercing gaze.

Lila Mae: "Daddy, you didn’t tell me we had company," she said, smirking slightly as she looked me over.

Jeb: "This here’s our new hand," he replied, a hint of warning in his tone. "Treat him right—long as he pulls his weight."

Lila Mae gave me a small smile, but her eyes held an edge.

Lila Mae: "Welcome to the family farm," she said, voice soft but pointed.

As I shook her hand, I felt an uneasy chill pass over me. The Grangers were friendly enough, but something in Lila Mae’s smile and Jeb’s silence told me that life on this farm was going to be anything but ordinary.