The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. The small apartment felt like a cage, the walls stained with leaks, the secondhand furniture creaking under the weight of my loneliness. I was sitting on the worn-out sofa, hands folded in my lap, when my brother Robert burst through the door. His voice thundered through the tiny room.
“Why aren’t you living in the farm William left you? ” he demanded. “You own a house, land, cattle. Why are you here in this place?
”
Before I could answer, Ethan appeared behind him. My son. My only child. He stood there, hands in his pockets, chin raised, that familiar look of annoyance plastered across his face.
He didn’t even glance at me. Robert turned to him, waiting for some logical explanation. That’s when Ethan spoke in his cold, sharp voice. “That old farm.
I gave it to my father-in-law Arthur to raise the animals and build his dream home,” he said, shrugging. “My mother is useless. She doesn’t deserve it. ”
The words hit me like stones.
Useless. Doesn’t deserve it. I stopped breathing. Robert froze, disbelief written all over his face.
Then his shoulders tightened. His jaw clenched. His fists slowly formed, knuckles popping. I knew that sound.
Something was about to break. “Say that again,” Robert said, his voice dangerously low. Ethan lifted his chin, defiant. “You heard me.
I gave the farm to Arthur. He actually does something useful with it. My mother would just let it rot. ”
Robert stepped closer, eyes blazing.
“Do you even hear yourself? You just called the woman who birthed you, raised you, and sacrificed everything for you *useless*. ” Ethan rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with the drama.
I know what’s best for her. That farm is too much for one woman. She can’t handle it anymore. ” Robert’s voice rose.
“She worked that land for thirty years alongside your father. Planted every tree, raised every animal, built that house with her own two hands. And you say it’s too much for her? ” Ethan just shrugged again.
“She doesn’t have the strength anymore. It’s better this way. ”
Robert asked, “And the papers? The transfer?
” Ethan gritted his teeth. “She signed everything on March 15th. The deed, the ownership, all of it. ” Robert shook his head slowly.
“William died on March 10th, not March 20th. So how did she sign anything after his death? ” The room went silent. Ethan’s face went pale.
My hands started trembling in my lap. Robert turned to me, his anger turning into quiet disbelief. “Margaret, is this true? You signed away your farm?
”
I looked at my son, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Tears welled up, but I forced them back. I had to stay strong. I took a breath and spoke for the first time that evening.
“He brought the papers to me the day after the funeral. I was grieving, couldn’t even see straight. He told me it was just to update the records. I signed without reading.
I trusted my son. ” The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Robert looked at Ethan with pure contempt. “You tricked your own mother out of her inheritance?
”
Ethan’s face twisted. “It’s not like that. Arthur has plans. He’s building a house there.
The farm is actually going to be used. Not sitting here with her doing nothing. ” I felt a cold weight settle in my chest. “Then maybe we should ask Arthur what he knows.
” I said it softly, but the words echoed like a verdict. Robert nodded. “Let’s go. We’re ending this tonight.
”