When I got back, Jack was stacking firewood by his porch.
“You’ve got company snooping?” he asked like he already knew the answer.
“Summit Realty,” I said, dropping my hands into my pockets.
He let out a low whistle.
“That’s Megan’s bunch, right?”
“Yeah. She sent them here like she owns the place.”
Jack shook his head.
“Seen it before. Family fights over land get uglier than combat zones. You’ll want everything locked tight with a lawyer.”
“I’ve got a name, Robert Chen. Dad set it up. I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Good,” Jack said. “And Hannah, don’t let them see you rattled. Greedy folks smell fear like wolves.”
That night, as the fire burned low, I thought about his words. Wolves. That’s exactly what Megan was unleashing.
The next day, I drove into town and found a small diner with decent Wi-Fi. Over eggs and coffee, I drafted an email to Robert Chen’s office. Within an hour, I had a reply. He could meet me Friday. Relief settled in, knowing Dad had set up a legal safety net before he died.
Back at the cabin, I found fresh footprints by the dock. My stomach dropped. Someone else had been here while I was gone. I scanned the ground: three distinct sets of bootprints leading from the road straight to the back porch.
Inside, nothing seemed touched. Still, I walked each room carefully, instincts from years of deployment kicking in. Cleared corners, checked windows, no signs of forced entry. But the fact that strangers had come this close was enough.
That evening, Mom called again. I almost didn’t answer, but something in me wanted to hear what excuse she had this time.
“Hannah,” she said, “you’re making things worse. Megan feels like you’re shutting her out.”
“She’s breaking into my life, Mom. Literally. I had strangers walking my property lines this morning.”
“She’s just trying to protect family interests,” Mom insisted.
“Family interests?” I snapped. “What about my interests? What about Dad’s wishes? He trusted me with this, not her.”
