The next weeks passed in a rhythm that looked ordinary from the county road and felt increasingly desperate inside the farmhouse. Warren planted higher acreage, repaired a combine belt, negotiated for fertilizer, and calculated what the remaining crops might bring if the weather held. Casey walked the flooded margins early enough to avoid the worst heat, returning with muddy boots and photographs that showed the water changing in small but measurable ways. They ate supper together almost every night and rarely talked about how badly both of them needed the other to remain hopeful.
The developer's construction activity continued beyond the tree line. Trucks arrived with gravel, and equipment moved over the cleared tract through most weekdays, sending faint metallic sounds across the water. Warren asked the county permitting office for copies of the drainage plans and received a packet whose pages bore dates, revision numbers, and stamps that were difficult to interpret. The earliest plans showed a dispersal basin north of the property line. Later drawings included the widened channel leading toward his land, but the packet did not contain a clear explanation for the change.
Casey flagged the discrepancy for Odell and photographed every permit stamp. She did not assume a revision was illegal simply because it was different. Engineering plans changed for legitimate reasons all the time, and a permitted improvement could still cause an unforeseen problem. What troubled her was that nobody had yet shown where the extra water was supposed to go after leaving the new outlet.
One afternoon she stopped beside the county road to watch rainwater flowing down the newly paved approach to the development site. The runoff entered a catchment area, disappeared through a culvert, and emerged on the other side as a forceful stream heading toward the old drainage line. She could see the design's convenience in the way the water moved away from the project's future buildings. She could also see the inconvenience appearing below her grandfather's fence.
Warren filed a written complaint with the county drainage authority. He received confirmation that it had been logged and a promise that an inspector would review the site when available. Two weeks passed without an inspection, and then a clerk explained that staffing was thin and priority had been given to a failed culvert near a school. Warren did not argue with the school taking priority. He argued that a man should not have to lose another crop while waiting for someone to verify that a pipe was pointing the wrong way.
Abe Fisher offered to bring his excavator over and cut a temporary channel along the old route. He stood on the lane with his hands resting on his belt, studying the water as though he could already feel where the bucket would go. Warren wanted to say yes because the suggestion promised action and action had always been how he solved problems. Casey asked them to wait until Odell and the county could confirm whether digging would change the flow onto neighboring land or disturb evidence in the dispute.