My husband had spent years warning me never to set foot on that farm. So after he passed away and the lawyer handed me the key, saying that from now on the place belonged to me, I was ready to sell it right away and put everything behind me. But before making my final decision, I still wanted to see it once for myself. When the door opened, I finally understood why, all those years, he had never wanted me to set foot there.

By the time I finished reading, my eyes were too blurred to make out the last line properly. I pressed the paper to my chest, ridiculous gesture though it was. Grief has no dignity. Love does not, either, when it is interrupted.

“I need to see it,” I said.

Mr. Winters did not look surprised. “There is one more thing you should know before you go.”

I lowered the letter.

“Your husband’s brothers have filed objections to the transfer. They are contesting his capacity at the time of purchase and claiming the property is ancestral land that should have remained within the Mitchell family.”

The rage that moved through me then was so clean it almost steadied me.

“That’s absurd.”

“I agree. But given the property’s current value, they appear motivated.”