Elias stood in the middle of the gravel field, his gaze fixed on the road where Mr. Henderson's truck had disappeared. The silence that followed was heavy. It wasn't the peaceful silence of the coast; it was the cold silence of a town that had turned its back on him.

He looked at the pink stain on the wood. He had enough money to buy a thousand gallons of the best paint in the world, but at that moment, his bank account seemed like a useless pile of papers.

"Elias, come inside," Clara said from