“You’re on private property,” he said, stepping off the path with careful footing. The taller man blinked. “This isn’t yours, is it?” “It is. This entire stretch. You’re damaging the vines.” “We’re not doing anything,” the woman said, brushing her leggings.
“You’re trespassing,” Robert replied, his voice harder now. “Chill, man,” the other guy said. “It’s just a vineyard.” They walked off laughing. Robert stood alone among the vines, the silence pressing in like a dull ache.