I Found a Letter From My Late Father and Discovered a Secret About His Farm That Destroyed More Than One Life — Story of the Day

I inherited my father’s land and the somber solitude he left behind after his passing. However, among his possessions, I discovered a letter that told the truth about our country, the truth that explained years of animosity and showed how one choice had destroyed more than one life.

The last thing you want to find at your door after attending your father’s funeral is a heap of dog poop. I hoped it came from a dog, at least. For a time, I froze there, gazing at the chaos as if the universe were insulting me personally.

I knew who did it, of course. Only one household in the community was small enough to carry out such an act.

I walked across the yard, hammered on their front door, and tightened my fists. Shortly after, the door creaked open, letting Walter in.

In his late sixties, he had sagging shoulders and graying hair. He was the type of man who, although he may have been strong in the past, now wore his resentment like armor.

“What on earth is the matter with you?” I lost my temper. Couldn’t you stop playing your pointless games for even a day? My dad passed just recently. This morning, I laid him to rest. Do you lack even a semblance of decency?

He questioned, “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Don’t act foolish around me. I am certain that you are the one who left that dog mess on my porch.

A chuckle escaped his mouth. He whistled and turned his head, and a huge Rottweiler came running over in a matter of seconds. Walter gave Duke a mocking pat on the head.

You see? Duke is a free spirit here. Walter grinned and remarked, “I guess he thought your property was the ideal place to dump his droppings. “Good boy,” he continued, glancing down at the dog. Continue your excellent work.

“Are you crazy? Clear it up! I insisted.

“Oh no, Claire. I will not be entering your infamous property. Not after I received the court order from your father. Don’t you remember that? I’m not permitted anywhere close to your home.

Then he swung the door shut in my face, slowly and purposefully.

With heavy shoulders, I turned back to my own yard and picked up a shovel. I spent ten arduous, humiliating minutes cleaning and scraping everything his beloved Duke had left for me.

Later that night, when the only sound coming from the house was the old grandfather clock ticking away in the hallway, I went down on the couch and started crying.

When the world seemed too harsh, Dad was the one who stood up to the neighbors and stood up for me. However, he was no longer with me, therefore I had to face these challenges by myself.

I reflected on the land dad had left me, the legacy that seemed more like a burden than a gift that I was unsure how to handle.

He had been a prosperous farmer who ensured his family never had to face hardship. Walter had always said that his family detested us for it. Simply put, he argued, it was envy.

The conflict with Walter’s family had persisted for as long as I could recall, going all the way back to a time in the past that I could never fully comprehend.

I promised myself that I would drive to the property the next day. At that point, perhaps I would get some calm and clarity.

However, all I could do that evening was sit in the silence, allow the sadness to consume me, and acknowledge to myself how much I already missed him.

I drove out to the farm at dawn, which had shaped a lot of my father’s life and, now, mine, whether I liked it or not.

Dad had mentioned in his will that he had left me a unique message on the farm, but he had not specified what it contained or where I could locate it.

He had been whistling an ancient song under his breath, greeting the staff, and checking on the animals as he walked those rows for years like a monarch in his domain.

It was just me now, leaving the car with a list of things I didn’t feel prepared for and a heavy heart.

One of the farmhands, Miguel, showed up close to the barn. As soon as he saw me, he lowered his head and took off his cap. He whispered, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Claire.”

I scowled. “Why are you here, Miguel? I granted a week vacation to everyone.

He answered, “I came to feed the animals.” “I couldn’t abandon them to hunger.”

Was there ever any mention of my dad leaving me a message here? Something significant?

“No, ma’am. I never heard about it, if he did.

Despite my disappointment, I thanked him. I entered the farmhouse after he had gone.

There were remnants of his life and the man who had been bigger than life wherever I looked, and now it all felt like debris that I needed to sort through.

I put on my work boots and got to work. There are three piles: things to donate, things to retain, and things to discard.

Every object I touched was burdened with recollection, and I was exhausted by the time the sky outside grew gloomy.

I made the decision to prepare tea before the exhaustion took over my life. I grabbed the jar of dried herbs my father had gathered himself in the kitchen.

Something slipped and dropped with a dull thud as soon as my fingers touched the shelf. I froze, bending down.

It was an envelope with my name inscribed in my father’s distinctive calligraphy across the front.

He must have guaranteed this message in his will. However, a sound interrupted the silence before I could rip it open. At first, it was dim, like the sound of footsteps on gravel.

My pulse was pounding when my head jerked up. The farm should have been deserted. There was no need for anyone else to be there, and Miguel had left hours ago.

The frigid air was hurting my face as I hurried outside. I saw a figure getting into a car parked near the road as soon as I got off the porch.

The car surged to life and took off in a matter of seconds.

I felt something was amiss even though I had hardly had time to register its shape. Why would someone travel so far and then abruptly depart?

My stomach fell when I looked back toward the house.

Red paint was splattered across the farmhouse’s front walls, with words written in erratic, irate strokes. Untruthful. Devil. A jerk. The charges poured down like new cuts, screaming at me from the wood.

Before I could stop the tears from falling, I clapped my hand over my mouth.

Less than twenty-four hours after my father’s burial, his name was already being dragged through the mud.

I staggered back inside, trembling, and headed directly to the living room, where the security monitor was installed.

I struggled with the buttons until I managed to access the front gate’s camera stream. The automobile was driving away, there it was.

The license plate was sufficiently visible despite the shaky video. I was certain whose vehicle it was.

That night, I didn’t drive home directly from the farm.

Rather, I came to a halt in front of Walter’s house, which I feared more than anything else. I banged my knuckles against the door until it opened.

“How were you able to?” Before he could say anything, I yelled. “How could you allow your family to engage in such heinous behavior?”

“What are you discussing, Claire?”

I yelled, “Don’t you dare pretend.” “Your son Carlos insulted the house while driving to the farm. The car, the paint, and the registration plate were all visible to me. He was the one.

“Carlos! Come on out!

A few moments later, Carlos emerged, tall and broad-shouldered, his jaw clenched in defiance.

“Now what is she talking about?” Walter insisted.

I said, “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about.” “You damaged my dad’s house. His name was disgraced by you. Carlos, how do you honor the dead when he’s dead?

Carlos’s face contorted with rage. “Your family was deserving. Everything I painted was accurate.

Did you deserve it? For what purpose? For achieving success? for possessing more than you do?

He took a step toward her. Claire, don’t pretend to be innocent. You are fully aware of what your family did. Ours was devastated by your father, and you act like the victim everywhere you go. You resemble him exactly.

Carlos slammed the door before I could respond, but the words were like a smack. For some minutes, I stood there repeatedly hammering, but nobody returned to the door.

I finally yelled, “If this doesn’t stop, I’ll go to the police!” through the window crack.

I sat in the quiet of my own home, still shaking from the encounter.

I took the envelope I had discovered at the farmhouse out of my bag. I forced myself to break the seal even though my fingers hesitated at it. There was a letter inside.

It started with Claire. Without telling you the truth, I couldn’t leave this life. I can’t pretend to be the man you believed me to be because I’ve carried this burden my entire life.

Walter and his family despise us, and you should know why. He and I were buddies long ago, perhaps closer than brothers.

Together, we envisioned owning a farm. We decided to purchase it together as we lacked the funds to do so separately.

However, I became anxious when I learned that your mother was expecting you. I told myself I had no choice but to provide security for my family.

Walter gave me his money, but I only put my name on the deed. I gave him nothing. I took his future and his savings.

No matter how much good I tried to do in the future, it was impossible to undo the worst mistake of my life.

I apologize for deceiving you and giving the impression that I was a better man than I actually was.

My hands were shaking by the time I had finished reading. I desired to burn the paper until every letter was reduced to ash and to shred it to pieces.

However, my father’s actions could not be reversed by deleting the letter. Everything we owned was founded on a betrayal by the one I had most trusted.

The letter weighed heavily on my lap as I sat there for a while before realizing what I needed to do. After grabbing the farm’s keys, I made my way back to Walter’s house.

Once more, Carlos opened the door. “Have I not told you? Liars are not spoken to by us.

I said, “Until tonight, I was unaware of the truth.” “I just learned about it. I also have to talk to your dad.

Behind him, Walter emerged. Claire, what is it now?

I extended the keys. “You own these.”

“You cannot be forgiven for what my father did to you. You spent the rest of your life dealing with the fact that he had taken everything away from you. You should have owned this property from the beginning. We’ll properly transfer it when I call a lawyer tomorrow. However, I want you to know that I will not hang onto something that was never truly ours tonight.

Walter looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “You’re telling me… You’re handing the farm to us?

“Yes,” I firmly said. Since I am unaware of the facts, I am unable to dwell in that house. Additionally, I apologize.

He was silent for a long time before whispering, “Thank you.”

Carlos took a step forward. “I was mistaken about you,” he said. “He is not like you.”

After nodding, I started to walk away, but Walter stopped me. “Remain. Join us for a lunch,” he urged.

I gave a headshake. “I’m not worthy of a seat at your table.”

Walter’s tone grew softer. “Children shouldn’t bear the burden of their parents’ transgressions. Claire, come in.

It was a beginning, but it wasn’t forgiveness yet. I went inside slowly.