The judge did too, slightly.
"Then what are you asking for?"
"For Silver Ridge to stop entering my land, stop moving things onto it, stop trying to move them back off it, and stop pretending their management company has authority over my pond. I want the state and the lawful rights holder to determine what happens to the fish."
"Do you intend commercial use?"
"Only if it becomes legal and the rights holder agrees."
"Why have you met with an aquaculture consultant?"
"Because thousands of fish are now living in my pond whether I wanted them or not. I needed to know what managing them properly might require."
Judge Barber nodded.
That answer mattered more than I understood at the time.
I was not claiming a windfall before the paperwork supported one. I was not telling the court that Karen's mistake entitled me to somebody else's assets. I was telling the truth, which was simpler.
Silver Ridge had put the fish there.
Now everyone needed to stop pretending that fact could be reversed by another truck.
The judge denied Silver Ridge's request for broad emergency control.
She issued a narrower preservation order.
No party could remove, transfer, sell, destroy, or materially alter the registered stock without further authorization. I could perform ordinary pond maintenance and any emergency work recommended by fisheries officials. Silver Ridge was prohibited from entering my property without permission or lawful process.
The $4,800 invoice was not enforceable through the requested emergency procedure and would remain disputed.
Most importantly, the state review of the transfer could proceed without the fish disappearing first.
Karen left the courtroom before I did.
She walked quickly.
Daniel and I were collecting papers when Martin came over.
"She is scared," he said.
"I noticed."
"Not of the fish."
"The development."
Martin nodded.
"Probably."
Outside, Daniel looked at me.
"Do not celebrate."
"I was not planning to."
"This only preserves the situation."
"I know."
"Silver Ridge may file again."
"I know."
"And if you decide to build a fish business because you won one hearing, I will personally throw you into the pond."
I smiled.
"You charge by the hour for that?"
"Travel included."
The state fisheries review began the following week.
Elaine returned with two biologists and a veterinary consultant. They conducted a structured stock survey using methods designed to minimize harm. Fish were sampled, measured, scanned for tags, checked for visible health conditions, and released. Genetic samples from selected individuals were sent for comparison against historical Riverstone records.
Ethan asked if he could help.
Elaine said he could carry equipment.
He carried equipment like he had been appointed deputy fisheries director.
For three days, our barn became a temporary record room.
Tag numbers were logged.
Lengths recorded.
Weights sampled.
Photographs matched.
Tom Reynolds returned to observe parts of the process.
By the end of the survey, the estimate was clearer.
There were fewer primary tagged broodfish than the first visual impression suggested, but still enough to represent a meaningful breeding base. The pond also held a large number of untagged offspring and associated stock likely descended from the registered line.
Several tagged trout traced directly to archived Riverstone breeding families.
A subset of bass carried registry marks from a related sport-fish selection program.
The state did not place one simple price on the population. That would have been misleading.
But Tom and Martin agreed that a properly managed breeding asset could support a substantial commercial operation if rights, permits, and health controls aligned.
That was when I asked Martin the question directly.
"Would the trust rather move them somewhere else?"
He stood beside the pond with his hands in his jacket pockets.
"Moving mature broodstock has risk."