I kept reading faster.
“The title was never transferred to my sons. I hid the real ownership papers because I knew what they would do after my death.
The land belongs to you now, Maria.
Only you.”
My blood ran cold.
That farmland was enormous.
Nearly twelve hectares.
Developers had been trying to buy it for years because a new highway project was planned nearby.
It was worth millions.
No one in the family knew that Tatay Ramón still legally owned it.
And according to the letter…
now I did.
Suddenly, the front gate slammed outside.
Voices.
Loud voices.
My brothers-in-law.
I quickly shoved the money and letter back inside the pillow just as my oldest brother-in-law, Ernesto, staggered onto the terrace smelling like beer and cigarettes.
“There you are,” he muttered. “People are asking where Tatay’s pillow went.”
My stomach tightened.
Behind him came his younger brother Joel and their wives.
All of them staring directly at the pillow in my lap.
Joel narrowed his eyes.
“What’s inside it?”
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