“You were thirty.”
“I know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
We sat.
I made coffee on the small stove.
Samuel looked around.
“You really sleep here?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“It’s dry.”
“Rebecca.”
“I had nowhere else.”
His face changed.
“Mom said you were staying in transitional housing.”
“She lied.”
He looked sick.
“She said you refused help.”
“Nobody offered.”
Samuel stared at the ground.
Then said.
“You could stay with me.”
The offer came late.
But it came.
“Thank you.”
“You should.”
“No.”
He looked up.
“Why?”
“Because this is mine.”
I gestured toward the cave.
“The hill.”
“The trees.”
“All of it.”
“I need to understand what that feels like.”
Samuel nodded slowly.
Then he told me something.
My mother had not sold the old house because she needed money.
She sold it because she wanted to move closer to Lily’s school.
She bought a newer home.
My brothers had both received financial help from the sale.
Samuel received twenty-five thousand dollars.
Our younger brother, Mark, received the same.
I received nothing.
Samuel looked ashamed.
“I thought your share went into an account.”
“What account?”
“Mom said she was saving it until release.”
My chest tightened.
“Did she?”
“I don’t know.”
We found out later.
She had not.
There had been no account.
No share.
My mother had simply divided the money between herself and my brothers.
Samuel returned his twenty-five thousand.
I did not ask him.
He brought a cashier’s check.
“I shouldn’t have taken it.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have asked.”
I took the check.
Not because I wanted his guilt money.
Because it had always been part of my family home.
And I needed every dollar to build.
Mark was different.
He called.
He did not visit.
“Why are you making Mom miserable?”
That was his opening sentence.
I almost hung up.
Instead, I listened.
He said my mother had done everything for Lily.
He said I had embarrassed the family.
He said the land should be sold.
He said Granddad would never have left forty acres to “a convict.”
I replied.
“He did.”
Mark became silent.
Then accused me of forging the letter.
I ended the call.
Maya warned me that family conflict might escalate.
She was right.
A week later, a developer named RidgeLine Communities contacted me.
They offered $410,000.
I declined.
