The Murder of Roberto Ayala in the California rice fields.
In California’s Central Valley, large ranches stretch for miles underneath substantial skies, their bounty feeding millions. The land gives from generation to generation like a spiritual heirloom. Yet inheritance does not simply reproduce tradition, it breeds animosity.
That’s the unspoken reality hidden in the mud the day Roberto Ayala died.
He had not been intended to be the one with power. He had not been meant to be the one foretelling.
And someone ensured he wouldn’t be, ever before once more.
The Young boy in the Sunflowers
On a peaceful Saturday afternoon in July 2011, Brandy Haven was at home with her children in Colusa Region. Her residence rested near among the large rice farms that dominate this corner of the valley. It was expected to be simply one more warm, foreseeable day. That changed when a little boy showed up– out of no place– breaking from the thick wall surface of sunflowers that surrounded her property.
He was barefoot. Covered in mud. Holding his footwear in his hands like he really did not even remember he had them.
Brandy froze. The kid, around 7 years of ages, was panting and dewy-eyed.