When Grandma passed, I thought the farm would be mine. I had spent my childhood working the land with her, loving it like she did. But in a cruel twist, she left it to my cousin Felicity—who only saw it as a quick payday. All I got was a cryptic letter and the right to stay—temporarily.
The letter hinted at something more: if I stayed on the farm for three months, a second part of the will would be revealed. So I did. I left my city job and threw myself into the work. Felicity mocked me, offered money to leave, and when I refused, the farmhouse mysteriously burned down. I lost everything—but I stayed.
With the help of a kind neighbor, Jack Harris, I rebuilt and worked harder than ever. The farm became my sanctuary, my purpose. Then the truth came out—Felicity had started the fire to push me out. Jack had the evidence.
