After Grandma died, I believed I’d own the property. Instead, my cousin Felicity, who only sees dollars, got it. I received a mysterious letter and the chance to stay on the farm—for now.
There’s more to this than it seems, and I’ll find out no matter what. The lawyer’s voice dropped after reciting the will. A cold, heavy hand gripped my chest.
Felicity now owned our family farm. My cousin Felicity only visited for weekends. How often did I wake up early to help Grandma with animals or plants?
How many days did I labor in the fields, burning my skin, while Felicity utilized the farm as a pretty background for her social media? “Are you okay, Diana?” the lawyer probed. I opened his letter with shaking hands.
I saw Grandma’s writing dance:
“Dear Diana,
Reading this means you must decide. You love this farm, as much as I did. But I had to make sure its true guardian would appear.
I gave Felicity the farm, but you can live here as long as you want. As long as you live there, the farm cannot be sold. Do be patient, sweetheart.
My second will will be disclosed in three months. Love,
Grandma”
Why didn’t she give me the farm? She didn’t trust me?
Felicity’s excited eyes caught my attention. Whispering with her husband Jack. I only caught bits of their discourse.
“Sell it… quick profit… developers…”
They didn’t care. They only saw numbers. I hated it.
Diana, take the cash. Get out “Felicity advised me later. What a generous sum.
You might live well in the city.”
Felicity, this isn’t about money. About family.”
Already bored, Felicity shrugged. For her, this was business.
However, this farm was my upbringing, where Grandma taught me hard work and love. I lay awake that night thinking about the property. I knew what to do.
Morning came, I requested a leave from my city employment. I needed to feel the ground beneath me. Felicity grinned and gave me the keys.
She wanted to escape the duties. ***
Farm tasks dominated the days. I groaningly got out of bed before dawn every morning to tackle the chores ahead.
While feeding the cows, I wondered, “How did Grandma do this?”
“Morning, Daisy,” I scratched the cow next to me behind the ears. “Ready for breakfast?”
She softly prodded me. “You’re the only one who listens to me, you know that?”
I continued going with this modest comfort in the relentless job cycle.
I rushed to feed the chicks and settle the goats. I was already planning the next assignment when I finished. I heard Mr.
Harris approaching when I finished mending the fence. “Need help again?”
Mr. Harris, you save lives.
I suppose this fence hates me.”
Putting down his toolbox, he laughed. No, it takes a hard hand. Display your dominance.”
He showed me how to reinforce fence posts.
“Your grandma used to say, ‘A good fence makes a happy farm.’”
“She never told me it would make me lose my mind,” I whispered, wiping sweat from my brow. He chuckled. She didn’t want to terrify you.
You’re doing well, Diana. You care, which is half the battle.”
“Half the fight? How about the other half?” My curiosity led me to ask.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
