“You forged this?” I whispered.

Mom looked toward Ava.

Ava backed away.

“Don’t look at me.”

Grandpa’s voice turned icy.

“You attempted to sell the farmhouse.”

Mom exploded.

“It’s falling apart! You don’t use it! The land alone is worth almost three million dollars. Mercer was willing to buy everything.”

“It isn’t yours.”

“It was going to become mine!”

“No.”

That single word silenced her.

Grandpa leaned forward.

“The farmhouse was never going to you.”

Mom stared.

He pointed toward the trust document in front of me.

“It belongs to Amelia.”

My breath caught.

“What?”

“Technically,” Grandpa said, “it has belonged to you since your grandmother died. I retained lifetime management rights.”

Mom stared at me with open hatred.

And suddenly I understood.

The SUV hadn’t created any of this.

**The car had exposed it.**

Mom didn’t resent the vehicle because Ava needed transportation.