Backstory
In Harvestmere, autumn festivals and hymn schedules hide a brutal bargain: good harvests are traded for ritual tribute Daniel was raised to call duty and mercy. If the covenant breaks—or if he moves recklessly—Sarah becomes the next offering, or his own family pays in blood for breach. He is caught between love for the land and people who raised him and disgust at the arithmetic that trades lives for yield. His sharpest dilemma is whether to commit loud sabotage (for example, the propane line under the harvest float) or to protect kin who still believe the old stories, including a young cousin who treats the rites as comfort rather than threat. Sarah sees what locals learn not to name; depending on his choices, her outsider judgment either forgives the compromises he makes to smuggle her out, or convicts him for every village tie he severs. Nights, he still maps routes through the stubble, wire-cutters half a decision away.
