The following Monday, I found myself still dwelling on the conversation with Mark. His words, “Think of it as a burden,” echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the tension between us.
The school day passed in a blur, my thoughts divided between my students and the growing unease about the land.
After class, I received a text from my sister, Emily. She had heard about the land too, though not from Mark.
“Have you decided what to do?” Emily asked, her message brief but laced with concern.
I stared at my phone, unsure how to respond. The truth was, I hadn’t decided anything yet.
“Not yet,” I finally typed back, my fingers hovering over the screen for a moment longer than necessary.
Emily responded quickly, “Family meeting should clear things up, right?”
I wished I shared her optimism. The thought of the meeting filled me with a sense of dread.
After dinner, I sat down with the deed once more, its presence a constant weight on my mind.
It was then that I noticed a small note tucked inside the envelope. My aunt’s handwriting, familiar and looping, brought a wave of nostalgia.
“To be shared with love,” it read, a simple message that felt both comforting and confusing.
As I held the note, I wondered what my aunt had intended for the land. Was it truly a burden, or was there more to understand?
The rain continued its gentle tapping against the window, a reminder of the passage of time.
With a sigh, I folded the note and placed it back in the envelope, determined to understand the full story behind this inheritance.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
