The family was shrouded in a somber silence as Abigail, Daisy, Ella, Dorothy, Barbara, Corazona, and the cousins made their way to the modest gravesite at the edge of the property.

The air was filled with grief, each sister grappling with the loss of their brother and son in their own way.

Daisy walked quietly, her eyes downcast, a bouquet of freshly picked wildflowers cradled in her trembling hands.

Beside her, Ella and Abigail whispered to one another, their voices hushed and somber. Dorothy, Barbara, and Corazona followed behind, their faces unreadable, their steps measured and deliberate.

As they approached the simple headstone, the smaller children – the nieces and nephews, the cousins – gathered around, their eyes wide and their lips pressed into thin, solemn lines.

They, too, felt the absence of the kind, gentle man who had once doted on them, showering them with affection and indulgence.

Daisy knelt beside the grave, gently placing the flowers at the base of the headstone.

She traced the letters of her husband's name with a trembling finger, her lips moving in a silent prayer.

The other sisters stood in a silent, respectful circle, each lost in their own thoughts and memories.

For a long moment, the only sound that could be heard was the soft rustling of the breeze through the trees and the occasional sniffle from one of the younger children.

Finally, Daisy cleared her throat, her voice surprisingly steady. "Oh honey, we miss you dearly," she said, her gaze fixed on the simple marble marker.

Tension hung thick in the air as the sisters stood solemnly at their brother's graveside. The somber mood was shattered, however, when a familiar figure came into view – Cynthia, the same age as  Corazona.

Daisy's eyes narrowed as she watched the young woman approach, her steps quick and her expression thunderous.

"Cynthia," Daisy said, her voice sharp, "what are you doing here?"

Cynthia's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and defiance. "Why, I'm just passing by, this is a public rice field after all, of course," she spat, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Or is this cemetery exclusive to the Thornhill clan?"

Ella placed a hand on Daisy's arm, sensing the impending confrontation, but Daisy brushed her off.

"This is a private matter," Daisy snapped. "You have no right to be here."

Cynthia's lips curled into a sneer. "No right? Last I checked, these fields don't belong to you. Just like the land title that's supposed to be ours, not yours."

The accusation hung in the air, and Daisy's face flushed with rage. Before anyone could react, her hand shot out, connecting with Cynthia's cheek in a resounding slap.

Cynthia reeled back, her eyes wide with shock, before lunging forward, her own hand raised in retaliation.

The sisters scattered, the children erupting into frightened cries as the two women grappled, their shouts echoing across the once-peaceful cemetery.

Ella watched in horror, her hands trembling as she tried to pull Daisy away, but the sisters were embroiled in a fierce battle, each trading blows and hurling accusations.

"This is our family's land!" Daisy shouted, her voice shrill and unhinged.

"It belongs to all of us!" Cynthia retorted, her nails raking down Daisy's arm.

The other sisters looked on, some with shock, others with a disturbing sense of detachment, as the two women continued to fight, their grief and anger spilling out in a violent, messy display.

Tensions reached a boiling point as the confrontation at the fields spiraled out of control.

Cynthia had barely turned to leave when Barbara, Abigail, and Dorothy suddenly attacked her, joining the fray.

Fists flew and hair was pulled as the sisters unleashed their pent-up emotions, their grief and anger fueling their actions.

From the sidelines, a woman named Nene, who appeared to be Cynthia's daughter, witnessed the assault on her mother.

Without hesitation, Nene rushed into the melee, lashing out at the Thornhills women, slapping and beating them as she fought to defend her mother.

Corazona, in a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation, yelled out that the land title had been lost to the Thornhill family five years ago.

But her words only seemed to incite further violence, as Nene turned her wrath on Corazona, slapping her forcefully across the face.

Onlookers watched in horror as the Thornhill sisters and the Simmons women traded blows, their grief and resentment boiling over into a violent, messy display.

The children, who had previously gathered quietly, were now in tears, their cries adding to the din of the altercation.

The altercation at the fields continued to escalate, with tensions reaching a fever pitch.

In the midst of the fight, Daisy was scratched by Nene, the daughter of Cynthia, during the violent exchange. Witnessing this, Camila, Daisy's daughter retaliated by slapping Nene, defending her mother.

Cynthia, seeing her daughter attacked, immediately lashed out, slapping Camila in return. "How dare you disrespect my daughter you whore!" Cynthia spat, her eyes burning with rage.

Cynthia punctuated her words by spitting on the ground, a gesture of defiance and a warning of the brewing conflict. "I WILL MAKE SURE THAT YOU ALL WILL NEVER FIND PEACE WITHIN YOUR FAMILY, YOU WILL SUFFER AND YOU WILL DIE ONE BY ONE!"

"I'll fight for my daughters and our family's belongings," Cynthia proclaimed more, her voice dripping with venom.

Corazona, attempting to de-escalate the situation, could only shake her head in dismay, muttering, "Oh, how your family is full of warfreaks."

As the violence escalated, Cynthia and her daughter Nene slowly turned and began walking away, their faces twisted with palpable anger.

Seeing this, Corazona and the other Thornhill sisters couldn't resist taunting the retreating Thornhills. "Look at them, walking away! What cowards!" Abigail jeered.

The Thornhill women continued their barrage, smugly declaring that the Peterson family had already secured the rightful land title, leaving the Thornhills with no claim. "You should just accept that your daughter, Agnes will be in jail forever!" they shouted after the departing Cynthia and Nene.

Nene and Cynthia continued walking, their strides rigid with barely contained fury. They refused to engage further with the Thornhill clan, who were now openly mocking their retreat.