I stopped. “Go on ahead,” I said. She clasped my hand a moment, but I pulled away. Dice had answers for everything, and the answers were truer, on the whole, than the ones I got in the fake world. There was something wrong with the fake world as it was—the thin-walled houses built with no attention to the sun; the knickknack store with levitating globes and pig-shaped flashlights for people who didn’t know what to buy each other, the people who believed that buying things was an expression of love.

Queen continued walking. When I saw her far off in the woods picking up a fir branch and cradling it, I tried to push my sadness down deep. I tried to think this was as it should be, and I tried to ignore the fact that a fir branch is not a baby at all.

I started to walk toward her, not yet decided about whether to comfort her, when I saw, with a shock, two unfamiliar men at the edge of the creek. In the dimness, I could not see their faces, but I could tell from their stocky shapes that they were not Ashers. I crept behind them. One of them stumbled, flicked on a flashlight, and just as quickly flicked it off again. I remembered Sara telling me—We see them around the land sometimes. Dressed like scientists. Looking in our rivers. Digging in the woods.

* * *

The next day, Pear sent Queen back to work. “The butter’s been acid since you’ve been sick,” she said to Queen. “I’ll come check on you later.” I followed Queen before anyone could tell me not to. I needed to ask if she had seen these men, too.

Queen and I collected the butter clumps from the barrel churn and kneaded out the last of the sour liquid, a job I always botched.

“How was your walk?” I asked Queen.

“Lonely,” she said.

“But did you see anything?” I said. “There were strangers by the creek.”

“Probably the people who want to kick us out. Developers,” she said. “Someday, they’re going to figure out a way to get him in trouble.”

“No,” I said. “We’re going to fight them off.” I raised my voice, trying to remind her, involve her. “Cooperation will win. All of nature is on our side.”

“I wish I could see the family like you do,” she said, partitioning out the butter.

“You have to try to be more open,” I said.

“Sort of hard when you’ve lost your baby,” she said.