After we hung up, I laced up my boots and walked the property line. Every tree, every patch of soil felt heavier now. This wasn’t just land. It was proof. It was the line Dad drew between Megan’s greed and my responsibility.
When I circled back to the cabin, I found Jack sitting on the porch steps. He looked up at me.
“You ready for this?”
I met his eyes.
“I’ve been ready my whole life.”
The decision came to me as clear as any mission order. I wasn’t going to hide behind lawyers forever. If Megan wanted a fight, she could look me in the eye and take her best shot. And Mom, she needed to see which daughter actually stood on solid ground.
So I called them both and said, “Dinner at the cabin tomorrow night, seven sharp.”
Mom hesitated.
“Is this wise, Hannah?”
“Megan wants answers. I’ll give her some.”
The line was quiet. Then Megan’s voice cut in from the background, smug as ever.
“Fine, we’ll be there.”
The next day, I cleaned the place like it was inspection day on base. I laid out Dad’s documents in neat piles on the kitchen counter. The deed, the surveys, the mineral reports, all with Robert Chen’s notarizations, proof stacked higher than Megan’s ego.