“Do you realize what this means? If that structure is confirmed as the original Whitmore Trading Post, it’s the most significant historical site in Riverside. It predates every other building in town by at least twenty years.”
“What do we do?” Adeline asked. “How do we confirm it officially?”
“You need to contact the Vermont Historical Society,” the librarian said at once, suddenly energized. “And probably the state historic preservation office. If they verify the structure’s identity and significance, it could be designated as a protected historic site. There may even be preservation grants available.”
Then she looked at them more carefully.
“Are you the Carters? The couple who bought that old structure from the Jenkins estate?”
Adeline nodded, bracing herself for ridicule.
But the librarian smiled.
“People have been laughing at you. I’ve seen the posts online. But you may have just made the historical discovery of the decade in Riverside. There’s nothing funny about that. That’s incredible.”
For the first time in days, Adeline felt something like vindication.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
The librarian glanced down at her own name tag.
“Emily Chen. I’m also an adjunct professor of Vermont history at the community college. If you want help with this—documenting the site, contacting the historical society, whatever—I’d like to help. This is too important to let fall through bureaucratic cracks.”
Adeline and Silas left town hall that afternoon with copies of the relevant documents, Emily Chen’s card, and the first real hope they had felt in months.
They had bought a piece of history for three dollars.
Now they just had to prove it to the people who laughed at them.
Over the next week, Emily became their ally and guide. She came to the tiny structure with a camera, notepads, and measuring tools, carefully documenting every detail.
She photographed the carved initials. She took precise measurements. She compared the lettering in the wall inscription to known examples of Josiah Whitmore’s handwriting from the archives.
“It’s a match,” she said, studying the photographs and her printouts. “The letter forms, the cut depth, the style. This is Whitmore’s work.”
While Emily handled documentation, Adeline and Silas kept cleaning and studying the building. They had been living in it for a week now, sleeping on the floor in their bags, but at least they were warm and dry.
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