I believed that the worst of my life was behind me after my father passed away. After that, however, the will was distributed, and I was left with nothing. A stranger handed me a map just as I was beginning to question everything that was going on… Therefore, that was the moment when the actual battle for my father’s legacy started.
I stood devoid of emotion at the grave. Even when the coffin had vanished into the ground, I was unable to move even a muscle. Even before I knew that I had been crying, my face was already moist.
I had been there for him through everything, including the nights when he was unable to breathe, the never-ending hours spent in the doctor’s office, and the peaceful mornings when he attempted to smile despite the pain. I was present when he took his last breath with me by his side. After that, he had vanished.
After then, she showed up; it was my mother. The lady who had abandoned my father and me when I was eight years old. Matthew, the son she had with another guy, was standing next to her besides her.
The way she had turned her back on me was the same way that I turned my back on them. A few days later, while the will was being read, the shock struck. In a flat manner, my uncle Ray, who was the last person my father ever trusted, read the following:
It is my intention to leave all of my property, assets, and accounts to my ex-wife Caroline and her son Matthew.
I became numb. What about me, you ask? Ray stated, “That is the complete legal document.” the phrase “signed and witnessed”
My mother let out a smirk.
You are free to pack your belongings. It takes three hours. Consequently, this is not going to be your home.”
In complete solitude, I made my way to my room, frantically packed my bags with shaky hands.
The photo albums were left behind, but I stole the flannel shirt that belonged to my father. His scent was present in it. I was staying at a motel that night, and I gazed at the ceiling.
This is not something that Dad would have done. The situation was not right. As I was leaving the motel three days later, I observed a man who was standing across the street.
Without uttering a single word, he made his way straight to me, put something into my hands, and then disappeared. A map was at hand. It also comes with a note.
The handwriting done by my father:
It is possible that the will does not make provisions for you. Just put your faith in the person who was there with me on my last day. That referred to me.
Red Xs were placed in the forest on the map, which depicted our old summer cottage that was located beside the lake. My heart rate intensified. He had left a message for me.
Upon my arrival at the cabin, I discovered that the door had been shattered, and the interior had been gutted. There, I had been victimized by someone. The shed was the source of the whispering.
Matthew and my mother were huddled together, hunched over a wooden crate. As soon as I stepped inside, I remarked, “You stole the map.”
Her pupils became more constricted. “If he left something, then it belongs to us as well.”
It is not.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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