Cortland
I stare at blurring spreadsheets. Austin invades my thoughts - her chestnut hair, her Texas-sky eyes.
My phone buzzes. Cam's voice crackles through: "Cort, A.M. Myers LLC's lawyers met us. The whole family's coming. It's urgent - the water rights."
Grandpa's poker folly, betting our livelihood. Now some inheritor swoops in to strip everything.
"I'll be there," I say, grabbing my keys.
The law office looms. Our vehicles crowd the lot. Inside, Mom gleams in her pencil skirt, Dad stands stoic, Cam mutters. Cadee eyes me as I sink into leather.
"Myers heir showed up yet?"
Dad shakes his head. "Delayed. Their rep had an accident. Soon, though."
Silence weighs on us. These water rights are our lifeblood. Without them, our legacy crumbles.
The door creaks. My heart stops.
Aust
