In 1966, in the small, quiet farming town of Harmony Creek, Tennessee, lived Matilda Hayes, a 20-year-old girl who had never once stepped outside the strict boundaries drawn by her father.

Walter Hayes was a hard, proud farm laborer who thought a daughter’s value was determined by how quietly she obeyed and how unmarked she remained by the world.

While other girls her age giggled over boys, went to dances, and dreamed of bigger lives, Matilda was kept out of sight, her world limited to mending, cooking, and lowering her gaze. She had never held a boy’s hand. Never had a private conversation with one. Her life wasn’t lived—only controlled.

That same year, a terrible drought settled over Tennessee. Crops withered. Animals starved. Walter lost his job, and soon their pantry was nearly bare. For days, the family survived on watered-down grits. Her younger siblings cried themselves to sleep from hunger. Her mother cried quietly each morning.

One night, Matilda overheard hushed voices in the living room. A name was spoken: Arthur Shaw. Everyone knew him about the wealthy, reserved man who lived alone on a large farm at the edge of town. He was forty-five, respected, and entirely solitary.