In the summer of 1966, the air over Harmony Creek, Tennessee, hung heavy and dry. The once-green fields had turned to dust, the crops withered, and families who had worked the same land for generations began to break under the weight of debt and hunger. Among them was the Hayes family — proud, poor, and desperate.
Walter Hayes was a hardworking man who believed in order, obedience, and appearances. His daughter, twenty-year-old Matilda, had lived her entire life under his quiet rules: speak softly, work hard, and never dream beyond what could be stitched, cooked, or cleaned. While other young women wore bright dresses and went to church dances, Matilda stayed home, her world no bigger than her father’s voice.
