She doesn’t want to manage it. She wants to steal it.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Mom said flatly. “She’s thinking of the family’s future.”
There it was again, the family card, always stacked in Megan’s favor.
I ended the call before the anger boiling in my chest came out in words I couldn’t take back.
By midday, I needed air. I took a walk down the dirt road, the chill biting through my jacket. The woods were still, the kind of quiet that sharpens every sound. Half a mile down, I found fresh tire tracks cutting into the brush near the property line. Someone had driven off-road to get closer.
I crouched, tracing the ruts with my finger. Wide spacing, heavy tread, probably the same SUV. They hadn’t just stopped by. They’d been poking around.
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.
