The manager was a man in his thirties, clean-shaven and wearing a name tag that read Jeff – Store Manager. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Good morning,” Jeff said, trying to smile. “What can I do for you?”
Eli didn’t waste time. “I own the land right across the road—where your customers have been parking. That’s private farmland, not overflow.” Jeff’s expression flickered. “Ah. Yes. We’ve had… a few incidents reported.”