My finger trembled as I read the courthouse record aloud. The deed had been filed eleven years earlier under Josephine Aldridge’s name, and beneath hers appeared mine: Maybelle Louise Garrity. Winifred squeezed my shoulder and whispered, “Keep reading, honey.” Through blurred eyes, I followed the description: the tenant house, the pecan grove, and forty acres stretching along the lane. Josephine had quietly transferred all of it to me years before anyone knew.

Suddenly, the courthouse door slammed open. Warren stormed inside wearing his good suit, his face bright red, with Dalton and Orville close behind. “That deed is a mistake,” he snapped. “Mother’s lawyer already told us so.” Winifred didn’t flinch. She calmly turned the record book slightly and tapped another line directly beneath my name. Warren leaned forward confidently, but the moment he read those words, his expression changed completely. His mouth fell open, and every trace of color disappeared from his face.

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