Chapter 6: The Hidden Parcel
For three seconds, I couldn't move.
The folder in my mother's hand seemed heavier than it had any right to be.
“What do you mean, another property?”” I asked.
Diane looked toward the dark lake.
“The cabin.””
My heart skipped.
“What cabin?””
She swallowed.
“Your grandfather's old fishing cabin.””
I stared at her.
“There isn't a cabin.””
“There is.””
“No. Grandpa sold it years ago.””
“He tried to.””
That answer sent a chill through me.
I stepped back onto the porch.
“Give me the folder.””
She hesitated.
“Mom.””
Finally, she handed it over.
The folder was old. Brown. The edges were softened from years of being handled.
On the front, in my grandfather's handwriting, were three words.
*For Claire. Later.*
I opened it.
The first document was a county map.
My eyes moved across the lines.
Then I saw it.
A narrow strip of land running behind the lake house property, extending toward a secluded cove.
At the end of it was a small square.
*Parcel B-17.*
I looked up.
“What is this?””
Mom crossed her arms.
“Your grandfather bought that land in the seventies.””
“Why?””
“He wanted privacy.””
I looked at the map again.
“And the cabin?””
“It was already there.””
“How did I never know?””
“You did.””
“No, I didn't.””
“You were a child.””
I shook my head.
“I spent every summer with him.””
“He didn't want you going there.””
“Why?””
She looked uncomfortable.
“He said you'd ask questions.””
“That doesn't answer anything.””
Mom sat down on the porch step.
For once, she didn't look angry.
She looked afraid.
“Your grandfather had a business partner,” she said.
I waited.
“His name was Thomas Reed.””
The name meant nothing.
“What happened to him?””
“He disappeared.””
I frowned.
“What does that have to do with the cabin?””
“Everything.””
She looked at the lake.
“Thomas and your grandfather bought several pieces of land together. When their partnership ended, your grandfather kept this parcel.””
“Why?””
“Because Thomas had cheated him.””
I opened the folder wider.
There were receipts.
Tax records.
A faded photograph of two men standing beside the cabin.
Grandpa looked young.
The other man was smiling.
Behind them was the lake.
On the back of the photograph, Grandpa had written:
*The day I learned that family isn't the same thing as loyalty.*
I stared at the words.
“What happened to Thomas?””
Mom shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You just said he disappeared.””
“I heard he moved to Oregon.””
“Did Grandpa ever talk about him?””
“Not after the lawsuit.””
I looked up sharply.
“What lawsuit?””
Mom went silent.
“Mom.””
She rubbed her forehead.
“Your grandfather sued him for fraud. They settled privately.””
I looked through the papers.
There was a settlement agreement.
But the final page was missing.
“Where is the rest?””
“I don't know.””
“You brought me a folder with a missing page?””
“I didn't put it together.””
“Then who did?””
Mom didn't answer.
My phone rang.
Rebecca.
I answered immediately.
“Rebecca?””
“Claire, where are you?””
“At the lake house.””
“Did your mother tell you about Parcel B-17?””
I stared at Diane.
“Yes.””
Rebecca exhaled.
“Okay. Good.””
“Good?””
“The title company found a reference to it during the final search.””
My stomach dropped.
“Why didn't they tell me?””
“They're calling me now. I was about to call you.””
I looked at Mom.
“What is it?””
Rebecca lowered her voice.
“B-17 is not just land.””
I waited.
“It has a separate access easement, an old cabin, and a private dock.””
I stared at the map.
“How much land?””
“About four acres.””
My mouth went dry.
“And the buyer?””
“He believes he's buying the lake house parcel only.””
I looked toward the dark water.
“Does he know about the cabin?””
“Not yet.””
“Can he back out?””
“Potentially. We need to disclose everything before closing.””
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
The one thing I had wanted to avoid was another family war.
Instead, Grandpa had apparently left me a mystery buried in county records.
I turned toward Mom.
“You knew about this.””
She shook her head.
“I knew the cabin existed.””
“You never told me.””
“You never asked.””
“You told me it was sold.””
“It was supposed to be.””
“Supposed to be?””
She looked down.
“Your grandfather changed his mind.””
“Why?””
Mom looked at me.
“Because Thomas came back.””
The words hung in the air.
“When?””
“Years later.””
“Did Grandpa meet him?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“The cabin.””
I looked down at the map.
“When?””
“Three weeks before he died.””
My pulse began to pound.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because your grandfather told me not to.””
“Why?””
She shook her head.
“He said you weren't ready.””
I laughed bitterly.
“I was twenty-nine.””
“You were grieving.””
“And now?””
“Now you're about to sell everything.””
I stared at her.
“Maybe Grandpa knew I would.””
Mom looked at the lake.
“Maybe.””
My phone buzzed again.
Rebecca.
“I have one more thing,” she said.
“What?””
“The title company found a handwritten note attached to the original parcel documents.””
“What does it say?””
She hesitated.
“I'm sending you a photo.””
My phone chimed.
I opened it.
The handwriting was Grandpa's.
*If Claire sells the lake house, make sure she knows about the cabin first. The cabin is not part of the family dispute. It is the answer to it.*
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
I looked at Mom.
“What family dispute?””
She stood slowly.
“I think you should see the cabin.””
“Tonight?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Her face had gone pale.
“Because if your grandfather left you something there, you need to know before you sign away the property tomorrow.””
I folded the papers.
“Where is it?””
She pointed toward the north side of the lake.
“You take the old service road.””
I looked at the trees.
The road had been abandoned for years.
“Mom.””
She met my eyes.
“What?””
“Why are you suddenly helping me?””
Her lips trembled.
“Because I made one mistake six years ago.””
“What mistake?””
“I thought your grandfather had left you the house because he wanted you to own it.””
She paused.
“Now I think he left it to you because he knew you would eventually need to find something hidden inside it.””
I didn't understand.
Not yet.
I grabbed a flashlight from my car.
Then I looked at her.
“Come with me.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Why?””
“I've never been inside that cabin.””
I frowned.
“You said you went there with Grandpa.””
“I went once.””
“When?””
“The night before he died.””
I froze.
“You went there the night before?””
She nodded.
“And he told me something.””
“What?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“He said, ‘If Claire ever asks why I chose her, tell her the truth.’”
“What truth?””
Mom looked at the dark road.
Then she whispered:
“He didn't choose you because you were his favorite.””
May you like
She swallowed.
“He chose you because you were the only one he trusted.””
