By the third week, Walter had stopped pretending it would settle down. The trucks came earlier now, engines echoing off the hills before sunrise. When he stepped outside, the air already smelled of fuel. A haze of dust hung over the valley like a low ceiling. That morning, the noise was worse than usual, metal clanging, men shouting.
He followed the sound until he reached the edge of the construction site. A cluster of vehicles idled near a line of stacked concrete pipes. At the center of it all stood the foreman, a stocky man in a hard hat and safety vest, barking orders to the crew. Walter called out from the fence. “Hey! You the one in charge here?” The foreman turned, eyes narrowing under his helmet.