They called it the Peach-Hills-Union. But Lila always smiled when she heard that. “No,” she would say. “It’s still the Division. We just learned to live across it instead of inside it.”
They ate in silence. And somewhere in the hills, a spring that had been dry for fifty years began to trickle. Peach-Hills-Division
And the peaches? They grew sweeter than ever. They called it the Peach-Hills-Union
She wanted to cross the line.
She crossed.