“Now is the perfect time. We are saying goodbye to a man who came up here because he wanted a simpler way of life. The last thing he’d want us to do is celebrate by drinking with the man who wants to turn Kaneq into Los Angeles.”

Dad seemed to grow while he stood there, fueled by rage and animosity. He moved forward, went to Thelma, who looked as broken as a used Popsicle stick, her hair dirty, her shoulders slumped, her eyes watery.

Dad squeezed Thelma’s shoulder. She flinched, looked frightened. “I’ll take Earl’s place. You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure we stay ready for anything. I’ll teach Moppet—”

“You’ll teach my daughter what?” Thelma asked in an unsteady voice. “The way you teach your wife? You think we haven’t seen the way you treat her?”

Mama froze, a flush colored her cheeks.

“We’re done with you,” Thelma said, her voice strengthening. “You scare the kids, especially when you’re drinking. My dad put up with you because of what you did for my brother, and I’m grateful for that, too, but there’s something wrong with you. I don’t want to rig the outside of our land with explosives, for God’s sake, and no eight-year-old needs to put on a gas mask at two A.M. and get to the gate with her bug-out bag. My dad did things one way. I’m doing them another.” She drew in a deep breath. Her eyes glittered with tears, but Leni saw relief, too. How long had Thelma wanted to say all this? “And now I am taking my dad’s old friends to Tom’s place to celebrate his life. We’ve known the Walkers forever. We were all friends, a community, before you showed up. If you can come and be civil, come. If you just want to tear this town apart, stay home.”

Leni saw the way people backed away from Dad. Even the bushy-bearded off-the-gridders took a step back.

Thelma looked at Mama. “Come with us, Cora.”

“What? But—” Mama shook her head.

“My wife stays with me,” Dad said.

There was a long moment. No one moved or spoke. Then, slowly, the Harlans began to walk away.

Dad looked around, saw how easily they’d culled him from the herd.

Leni watched their friends and neighbors get into their vehicles and drive away, boats thumping along behind them on trailers or in pickup beds. Matthew gave Leni a long, sad look and finally turned away.

When they were alone, just the three of them, Leni glanced at Mama, who looked as worried and scared as Leni felt. Neither had any doubt: this would push him over the edge.

Dad stood still, eyes blazing with hatred, staring down the empty road.

“Ernt,” Mama said.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “I’m thinking.”