My husband had spent years warning me never to set foot on that farm. So after he passed away and the lawyer handed me the key, saying that from now on the place belonged to me, I was ready to sell it right away and put everything behind me. But before making my final decision, I still wanted to see it once for myself. When the door opened, I finally understood why, all those years, he had never wanted me to set foot there.

I had dressed carefully. Not extravagantly, but with intent. Navy suit. Hair pulled back. Pearl earrings my mother left me. The sort of armor women wear when they know men are about to mistake polish for concession. Jenna stood beside me in a dark blue dress and Joshua’s watch on her wrist. Ellis had arranged the dining room exactly as I requested, documents at each place, water glasses, coffee service, projection screen hidden in the ceiling, and two additional doors left conveniently unremarkable.

When the brothers entered, they carried themselves like men stepping into a negotiation they had largely predetermined.

“Catherine,” Robert said with a smile that strained at the corners. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”

“Of course,” I said. “I thought it was time we discussed the true value of Maple Creek Farm.”

He missed the emphasis. Allan didn’t. I saw it in his eyes.

They took their seats. Robert at the center. Allan to his right. David to his left. The oil executive, introduced as Harrison Wells of Northern Extraction, placed himself where he could see the room and control his papers at once.

I remained standing at the head of the table.

“Before we begin,” I said, “I want to thank you for your proposal. It was educational.”

Robert smiled more broadly, already hearing submission in my tone because he wanted to.

“We’re pleased to hear that.”

I picked up the remote.

The projection screen descended from the ceiling with a soft mechanical hum.

That got their attention.

The first image that filled the far wall was a clean property map of Maple Creek Farm, all 2,200 acres of it.

Allan shifted.

Robert’s smile thinned.

“The division you proposed,” I said mildly, “focused primarily on the eastern 800 acres.”

“That is where current development potential appears strongest,” Harrison Wells said.

“Appears,” I repeated. “Yes.”

I clicked the remote again.

The complete geological overlay illuminated the map in reds and golds and contour lines.

This time even Harrison leaned forward.

“As you can see,” I continued, “the primary reserve lies beneath the western section, the same section your proposal treated as negligible.”

Silence.

Then Allan said, too quickly, “These private surveys are not necessarily reliable.”

The connecting door opened.

“Actually,” said a new voice, “they’re quite solid.”

Every head turned.