Chapter 241

"Mommy, hurry up!" David tugged at Tommy's hand as they bounced around the yard.

Emily Johnson carried a vegetable basket, following her two lively boys toward the threshing ground. The metallic scent of blood hit her nostrils long before they arrived—the area was already crowded with villagers.

"Emily, come help with the accounts!" Captain John Stone spotted her immediately and waved her over.

She quickened her pace and took the ledger. Her slender fingers flew across the paper, numbers appearing one after another in swift succession.

"This..." The accountant gaped. "How are you so fast?"

"Mommy's the best!" Tommy puffed out his little chest proudly.

The butchers, who had been working at a leisurely pace, suddenly found themselves rushing to keep up after Emily's arrival. The pile of pork on the chopping block visibly shrank.

"Emily, I saved this prime cut for you," one butcher said ingratiatingly.

She shook her head. "I'll take the trotters and bones. And... those intestines."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

"That stuff stinks and is filthy..."

"City folks are so strange..."

Emily tuned out the murmurs, focusing on the calculations. By noon, every family's share had been distributed.

"Let's go home and cook something delicious." She hefted the basket filled with pig's feet and bones, her two little shadows hopping behind her.

"Mommy, those guts smell awful..." David pinched his nose.

"They'll taste great once cleaned." Emily winked mysteriously. "We'll invite Grandma and Grandpa for dinner tonight."

No sooner had she set the basket down at home than Mary Stone pushed through the door.

"I knew you'd pick these." Mary rolled up her sleeves. "I'll wash them at the river. You start the stew."

By dusk, mouthwatering aromas wafted through the yard.

"Smells amazing!" Tommy drooled by the kitchen doorway.

Emily lifted the pot lid to reveal creamy bone broth bubbling with radishes and kelp. In another pot, glistening braised pork knuckles simmered in rich sauce.

"Dinner's ready!"

The family gathered around the table, even the two boys who'd earlier wrinkled their noses at the intestines now eating with greasy enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, miles away...

"Michael, sleeper tickets are sold out," Samuel Bright reported dejectedly.

Michael Stone clapped his shoulder. "Any ticket home is fine. Pack up—we leave tomorrow."

The group of men exchanged glances, each seeing the same homesick urgency reflected in the others' eyes.