Noah stood at the kitchen counter, flitting through mail, when a red envelope caught his eye. He dropped everything else and ripped the envelope open. Big, bold letters:

ATTENTION: HARVEST COMPLIANCE INSPECTION WILL TAKE PLACE THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 3 BETWEEN 8 A.M. AND 4 P.M.

He broke into a cold sweat as the ground dropped out from under him. That’s only two weeks away, he thought, and he was backed up on orders for his illicit pork and chicken. Normally, he could mask the meat business by using the pigs to clear scraps and the chickens for eggs, but it would be much harder to hide the turkeys he was prepping for Thanksgiving.

The government outlawed the sale of meat a decade ago to curb greenhouse gases from factory farming. He was careful to be discreet - he never kept cows and he was exclusive with his purchaser list. Not once had he been reported up until now. Random inspections happened - to make sure the farmers were on track for the harvesting each fall - but he knew in his gut that an inspection this late in the year meant someone had betrayed him.

That meant it would be too great a risk to distribute the birds early. He had no way of knowing who it was. He also had nowhere to put them that wouldn’t destroy his most profitable time of year.

Noah cupped his head in his hands and sunk into a barstool. He had an impossible decision to make and very little time to plan. There was only one person he could trust to help him - his father. He audibly groaned and pulled out his phone to dial. He wondered if this would end the same way as last time, when the roles had been reversed. He certainly hoped not.