EAST CLARE, 1852.
People have begun to say the worst is over.
M ire hAodha does not trust the saying. She trusts the soil, the weather, and the work of her own hands. On a narrow holding, with a child in her care, she has made a life from what hunger left behind.
The estate begins to take notice.
A man comes with questions. A name is entered in a ledger. The road outside the house is never quite empty now.
Nothing happens all at once.
M ire keeps to the field. The crop is coming on. The walls are still standing. She knows how much can be taken before anyone admits that anything has been lost.