I set the letter down, tears blurring the words. Dad had trusted me, not Megan. He had seen something in me she never could. I pushed the letter aside and picked up one of the old photos. Dad stood next to Rose, and behind them, I spotted survey markers in the ground. She’d known. She had left all this to him, and now it was mine.
My phone buzzed on the table. Megan, of course. I didn’t answer, but the text lit up the screen.
How’s the shack, Hannah? Still smell like mold?
I stared at it and almost laughed. If only she knew.
The night wore on as I went through the box. Land deeds, bank statements, Dad’s notes. The deeper I dug, the clearer it became. This wasn’t just property. It was leverage. It was power. And I was the one holding it.
