I never imagined I’d have to fight for the farm I’d spent so many summers on—but life had other plans.
My grandfather—kindest person I knew—passed away at 79. He’d always told me not to cry, saying he had no regrets. I cried anyway, both at his funeral and again when I found out he’d left me his farm.
Since childhood, I’d told him I longed to live on a farm; and before he died, he made it happen. When Uncle Joe, who was also the lawyer, read the will, he announced: “Lorelai, he left you the farm—but only on one condition: you must sleep in the barn on the first night and not leave at all during the night. If you fail, it’ll go to someone else.”
It seemed strange but doable, so I arrived at the farm with my dad, unpacked in the house, then went to sleep in the barn. Later that night, I woke to mysterious noises and dogs barking. Though scared, I remembered the condition. But curiosity got the better of me: I tiptoed across the yard and checked the house.
Inside, everything looked fine—until the basement. I discovered a hidden living space with a kitchen, bedroom … and there, standing in the light: my mother and a teenage girl. My mother explained she lived there, courtesy of Grandpa, even after betraying my father. Uncle Joe then appeared and declared that because I had broken the will’s condition, the farm now belonged to the girl.
I was stunned, realizing the girl must be their daughter—and Joe’s. After a tense exchange, I left silently, but felt something still off.
The next morning, as I prepared to leave, an envelope addressed to me fell from a shelf. It contained Grandpa’s original will—with no conditions, no mention of the barn, and no clause giving the farm to anyone else. My heart flooded with tears; Grandpa had truly protected me.
Holding the original will, I confronted Uncle Joe. He scoffed I couldn’t prove anything. I pointed out forging a will was a crime and announced I would take it to court if needed.
A few hours later, I watched as my mom, Uncle Joe, and their daughter drove away from the farm. I waved goodbye with relief—and walked back into my home.