Because no one in Willow Bend understood why the virgin widow had just spent $2 on a man like Isaiah.
And deep inside the quiet plantation house waiting at the edge of town, the truth behind her decision was about to begin unfolding.
A truth that would soon shock everyone who thought they understood.
The strange young widow named Mayel.
The road from Willowbend to Mabel’s plantation house stretched quietly between wide cotton fields and tall oak trees whose branches hung low with gray Spanish moss.
Isaiah walked several steps behind the small carriage as Bit moved slowly along the dusty road.
The afternoon sun burned brightly above them and the sound of wagon wheels turning over dry soil was the only noise for a long time.
People working in nearby fields stopped what they were doing to stare as the strange pair passed by.
Word had already begun spreading through town like wildfire.
The virgin widow had bought a man for $2.
No one understood why.
Some people believed she planned to force him to work the fields alone.
Others whispered darker rumors, but the truth was that no one truly understood the quiet woman who lived at the edge of Willowbend.
Isaiah kept his eyes forward as he walked.
His life had taught him that asking questions too soon could bring punishment.
Still, inside his mind, many thoughts were racing.
He had been sold before, traded before, used before, but never like this.
Never by someone who had barely spoken a word, and never for such a strange price.
When they finally reached the plantation house, Isaiah slowed his steps and looked up for the first time.
The house stood large and silent at the end of a long path surrounded by overgrown grass and aging fences.
It had once been beautiful.
That much was clear.
The tall white columns still stood proudly at the front porch, though the paint was beginning to fade.
The windows were wide and tall, reflecting the bright Mississippi sky like quiet mirrors.
Yet something about the place felt different from the other plantations Isaiah had known.
There were no shouting overseers, no crowded rows of cabins filled with exhausted workers.
The land seemed strangely quiet, almost peaceful.