She put the deed on the counter.
He didn’t touch it at first. He just stared at the paper as if it might bite.
Finally he pinched it between thumb and forefinger, squinted, and rubbed the faded ink with a slow motion that felt like pity.
“The Hollow Rock claim,” he sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m sorry about your grandmother. Truly. But this… this is less than nothing.”
Lena kept her face still. She’d learned young that if you let feelings show, people treated them like an invitation to step closer and take a piece.
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