Page 120 of The Lilac River

“Maybe Dad steamed it open,” Gunner said. “Wouldn’t be the first time he got sneaky.”

As my brother passed it to me, a smaller slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Gunner grabbed it and started reading aloud:

Henry, Here are the deeds of ownership for the lavender farm. I’d like you to keep it safe until I surprise them at Thanksgiving. I appreciate everything you did on this and your discretion. I can’t wait to see their faces when I give this to them for all their hard work over the years. I do like your suggestion of framing it and may just do that. Thanks again for everything, and I’ll be in touch over the other matter very soon, Emily.

The silence that followed felt thick and holy.

“It’s dated just a few days before she died,” Gunner said, voice hoarse.

“She must’ve been planning to give it to him or send it when she got in that accident.”

Gunner’s throat worked as he swallowed. “You think maybe... she had it with her? And that’s how he got it?”

“Maybe,” I whispered, picking up the folded deed. “Or maybe he found it later when they returned her things.”

My fingers trembled as I opened the document written sixteen years ago.

The deed to our legacy.

The lavender farm. Transferred by Emily Miller to…Shane and Felicia Daniels.

“Shit. She signed it over to them,” I choked. “Before she died.” I showed it Gunner, watching as he read it.

“That’s incredible,” he said, eyes glassy. “She protected themandthe farm without even realizing.”

“Or maybe she knew what he was like deep down,” I whispered on a swallow.

We went silent for a moment. There was nothing we needed to say except admire the generosity of our mother.

“Go Mom,” I said, a tear slipping free.

“He can’t sell it,” Gunner breathed.

For a moment joy overwhelmed everything else, the grief, the anger, the fear. Mom had protected her legacy by giving it to the two people who deserved it most.

Gunner started rifling through the rest. “What’s the rest of this crap?”

A sharp intake of breath followed.

He handed me a photo.

My stomach turned.

A prison yard. Two men standing side-by-side. One tall. Blond. Familiar. Smoking.

I didn’t know him, but I didn’t have to. Everything about the man’s straight spine and shape of his eyes told me who it was.

“That’s Lily’s dad,” I told him.

“Is this what he used... to get rid of her,” Gunner growled.

He handed over more, including one of her dad exiting a courthouse and of Ella walking in. From years ago.

Dated. Catalogued. Held like weapons.

And then one more folder full of more documents. Gunner held it out.

Something inside me went cold.

---