When Grandma died, I believed the farm would be mine. Instead, it was given to my cousin, Felicity, who only cares about money. All I received was a mysterious letter and permission to stay on the farm—for now. But there’s more to this than it looks, and I am determined to find out the truth, no matter what it takes.

The lawyer’s voice faded as he finished reading the will. I felt a heavy, cold weight on my chest. The farm, the core of our family, now belonged to Felicity.

My cousin, Felicity, rarely spent more than a weekend here.

How many mornings did I get up before sunrise to help Grandma with the animals or the garden?

How many long afternoons did I spend working outside, the sun scorching my skin, while Felicity used the farm as a pretty backdrop for her social media posts?

“Are you okay, Diana?” the lawyer asked softly, interrupting the silence. “Grandma loved you more than anyone…”

He handed me a letter, and my hands trembled as I opened it.

Grandma’s handwriting danced in front of my eyes:

“My dearest Diana,

If you are reading this, a choice has arrived. I know this farm is your heart, as it was mine. But I needed to see if the person who truly cares for it would come forward. I’ve left the farm to Felicity, but I’ve also given you permission to live here as long as you wish.

As long as you stay on the farm, it cannot be sold. Please be patient, my dear. The second part of my will will be revealed in three months.”

Love, Grandma.”

Why didn’t she leave me the farm directly?

Did she not trust me?

I looked over at Felicity, her eyes already shining with excitement. She was whispering with her husband, Jack. I couldn’t hear everything, but bits of their talk floated over.

“Sell it quickly for profit… developers coming…”

They didn’t care about the land. It was just a number to them. I found it hard to watch.

“Take the money, Diana. Leave this place,” Felicity later suggested.

“It’s a good amount. You could live comfortably in the city.”

“This isn’t about money, Felicity. It’s about family.”

Felicity shrugged, already uninterested. To her, it was just business. But to me, this farm was my childhood. Grandma showed me how to work hard and love this land.

That night, I stayed awake, memories of the farm swirling in my mind. I knew I had to act. By morning, I asked for time off from my city job. I needed to be there, to feel the earth beneath my feet.

Felicity handed over the keys, smirking. She was eager to escape the responsibilities.

How the days on the farm went by was a blur of work. Every morning, I forced myself out of bed before dawn, groaning at what lay ahead.

While feeding the cows, I wondered, “How did Grandma do this every day?”

“Good morning, Daisy,” I told the cow closest to me, giving her a scratch behind the ears. “Time for breakfast?”

She nudged me softly.

“You’re the only one who listens to me, you know that?”

It was a small comfort amid constant chores, but it kept me going. I hurried through feeding chickens and tending goats. Before I knew it, I was onto the next task.

When I went to repair the fence, Mr. Harris came approaching.

“Need help again?”

“Mr. Harris, you’re a lifesaver. Something about this fence hates me.”

He chuckled, setting down his toolbox.

He said, “No, it just needs a firm hand. Show it who’s boss.”

He started working, showing me how to strengthen the posts.

“Grandma used to say, ‘A good fence makes a happy farm.’”

“She never told me it would drive me crazy,” I muttered, wiping sweat off my face.

He laughed again. “She wanted to keep you from quitting. But you’re doing well, Diana. That’s half the battle.”

“Half? What’s the rest?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He looked at me with a serious expression.

“Perseverance when times are tough. This farm isn’t just land. It has a soul.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I hope I’m doing it justice.”

He patted my shoulder. “You are. More than you think.”

Later that evening, the sky turned an orange hue, and I noticed something strange.

Smoke?

I looked toward the farmhouse and froze. Flames were engulfing the roof, climbing higher and growing more fierce.

“No! No!”

I dropped everything, shouting at the top of my lungs. “Fire! Someone help!”

Neighbors rushed in but couldn’t stop the blaze. Mr. Harris grabbed my arm.

“Diana, it’s too dangerous!”

“But the animals…” I started.

“They’re safe,” he said firmly.

“Focus, Diana. You did your part. The animals are safe.”

I watched helplessly as the house burned completely. My eyes widened, my breath ragged.

“It’s all gone,” I whispered.

The next morning, Felicity appeared. She looked at the wreckage and simply shrugged.

“Well, this changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“Felicity,” I said, fighting to keep calm, “the house is destroyed, but the farm… it’s still here.”

She crossed her arms and renewed her smile.

“That’s exactly why it’s time to sell. Look at this mess, Diana. The land is ruined. It’s not worth the hassle.”

I shook my head, fists clenched. “You don’t understand. This is more than just land.”

“To you, perhaps,” she said coldly.

“But to the rest of us? It’s a money trap. So, when do you plan to leave?”

“I’m not leaving,” I said firmly. “This is my home.”

Felicity rolled her eyes.

“Be reasonable. You lost your job and are living in a barn, Diana. A barn.”

I kept my jaw tight. “I’ll figure it out.”

She looked at me with pity.

“You’re being stubborn. There’s nothing here anymore. Accept it and move on.”

She turned and walked away. I stood there stunned, furious. With trembling hands, I dialed my boss. The line rang several times before he answered.

“Diana, you’re late returning,” he said flatly.

“I need more time,” I blurted. “There was a fire. The house is gone.”

He paused. “That’s unfortunate, but we need you back by Monday.”

“Monday?” I choked. “I can’t be back then.”

He sighed. “Then we can’t hold your position.”

“Please, wait,” I began, but the call ended.

Mr. Harris approached quietly.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered. “Not really. But somehow, I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re stronger than you realize, Diana. And this farm is stronger, too. Don’t give up yet.”

I looked at the barn, the animals, and the burned remains of the house. Felicity wanted me gone, but this place was my heart.

“I’m not leaving,” I said again, with more certainty.

“You can’t stay like this,” Mr. Harris said softly. “I have a spare room at my house. You can stay there while you figure things out.”

His kindness nearly broke me.

“Thank you, Jack.”

Weeks passed in the hardest days of my life. Every morning, I got up at sunrise, my body sore from all the work. The farm became a battle zone, and I fought as its soldier.

I repaired fences that nearly collapsed, tilled the soil, and planted crops with my hands. The animals became my constant friends; they were my mornings and nights. They looked to me for care and gave me purpose in return.

Mr. Harris and Jack were always nearby, bringing tools, advice, or just a kind word.

One evening, after a long day, we sat on the porch with the smell of freshly cut grass filling the air.

“You did good, Diana,” Jack said, looking across the fields. “Grandma would be proud.”

I nodded, staring out at the horizon.

“Now I understand. Why she did what she did.”

“She knew this land needed someone who would love it as much as she did,” Jack replied. “And that person was always you.”

The farm became my world. It filled the emptiness my city life had left.

Finally, the day arrived for the second part of the will to be read. I entered the lawyer’s office, nervous and nervous.

He was already there, looking confident. The lawyer opened a sealed envelope and began to read:

“My dear Felicity and Diana,

If you’re hearing this, then the true owner of the farm must be chosen. Felicity, I know this might surprise you, but I always intended for the farm to go to the one who genuinely cares for it…”

He continued, “Since Diana has taken responsibility for managing the farm, unless there are objections…”

Felicity’s face went pale. The lawyer had no chance to finish.

“This is outrageous!” she yelled. “She burned the house! She’s a failure!”

Jack, who was with me, suddenly stood up. “I think it’s time we tell the truth,” he said, handing the lawyer a receipt.

“On the day of the fire, I saw Felicity near the farm. She bought gasoline from the store that afternoon.”

He continued, “This evidence points to her.”

“Fine! That was me! Someone had to help my sister move out.”

I watched as the pieces fell into place. Felicity had lied about the fire. She had wanted to get rid of me and sell the land.

“Diana, the farm is now officially yours,” the lawyer finally announced.

Now I embraced my role as the farm’s owner. I took care of the land and animals as Grandma had shown me. Her presence was in every corner—through the fields, the barns, the breeze that moved the leaves.

One evening, Jack asked, “How about that dinner I promised?”

“You know what, Jack? I think I finally do.”

We made plans, and for the first time in months, I felt hopeful. This farm was my history, my present, and maybe my future—a little happier because of Jack.