I stared at the document for a long time.
My mother's name was at the top. Grace Omen. Her name before she married my father. Beside it was Daniel Kingston. And below both names was a date. Twenty eight years ago. I had not even been born yet.
It was an agreement.
Handwritten in parts and typed in others. The language was formal and old fashioned but the meaning was not difficult to follow. My grandfather had a piece of land on the eastern edge of the city. At the time it was not worth very much. He was an old man with no sons and two daughters and he was worried about what would happen to it after he died.
Daniel Kingston had come to him with an offer.
He would manage the land. Develop it slowly. Protect it from the kind of legal trouble that swallowed up properties owned by families
