The next day, I drove into town for supplies: paint, lumber, hardware. At the register, the clerk asked, “Fixing up the Whitmore place?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Good. Folks around here always said that cabin deserved better.”
His casual words stuck with me all afternoon. Deserved better. That’s exactly what Dad must have thought.
Back at the cabin, I painted the front door a fresh coat of deep green. It gleamed in the afternoon sun, bold and solid. With every stroke, I felt more ownership, more determination.
When I took a break, I pulled out Dad’s box again. Tucked inside was another envelope, smaller, marked For Hannah’s eyes only. I opened it carefully. Inside was a handwritten note.
If Megan pressures you, remember this. Integrity beats greed in the long game. But you’ll need proof, allies, and a plan. Trust Chen. Trust yourself. And don’t forget, strength runs deeper than blood.
