“Never go to the farm, Catherine. Promise me.”
Those words—spoken with an uncharacteristic intensity—were among the few demands my husband, Joshua, ever made during our twenty-four years of marriage.
I had always respected his wishes, even when curiosity gnawed at me in those rare moments when he mentioned his Canadian childhood, a property he’d left behind, and then went quiet like the memory had bitten him.
But Joshua was gone now—taken by a heart attack no one, not even me, saw coming.
After twenty-four years of marriage, I was a widow at fifty-two, with a bitter daughter and a hollow space in my chest where certainty used to live.
“Mrs. Mitchell,” the voice of Joshua’s attorney, Mr.
Winters, pulled me from my thoughts.
We sat in his wood-paneled office two weeks after the funeral, the finality of death reduced to paperwork and signatures, the air smelling faintly of leather and wintergreen.
“There’s one more item.”
And then, like an awkward afterthought meant for an invisible audience, he added, “If you’re watching, please like and subscribe to the channel and tell me in the comments where in the world you’re from.”
He slid a small box across his desk.
Inside lay an antique brass key attached to a maple-leaf keychain, and a sealed envelope with my name written in Joshua’s precise handwriting.
“What is this?” I asked, turning the heavy key in my palm.
“Your husband purchased a property in Alberta, Canada, three years ago,” Mr. Winters said. “According to his instructions, you were only to be informed of its existence after his passing.”
He adjusted his glasses.
“The deed has been transferred to your name. All taxes are paid for the next five years.”
“A property in Canada?” I struggled to process the words.
Joshua didn’t own any property outside of our home in Minnesota.
“It’s called Maple Creek Farm,” Mr. Winters continued.
“Apparently, it was his childhood home, though the deed shows it changed hands several times before he repurchased it.”
The farm.
The place he’d forbidden me to visit.
The place that had caused his gentle face to harden whenever it was mentioned.
“Mrs. Mitchell, there’s something else you should know.” Mr. Winters lowered his voice.
“The property has become quite valuable recently.
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