I sat down slowly on the narrow bed. The bank manager explained that Hamish had applied for a loan of two hundred thousand pounds against Glenmore Farm just two days after the funeral. The bank required both children’s signatures because of a legal note on the title. Hamish had forged mine. The bank was calling to verify it, and she sounded as if she already knew the answer.

My hands shook as I broke the wax seal on my father’s paper. It was a signed deed, witnessed and stamped, giving me half ownership of the farm from the day he died. His letter said, “Ellie, I knew Hamish would try. I kept this where only your mother’s kettle would find it.” I read the last line twice. It said, “Do not let him sell your mother’s land.”