But even then, Dad had one final secret left.

And I found it on opening day.

—

PART 8 — THE LAST ENVELOPE

The first family arrived just after noon.

A mother.

A father.

A teenage daughter recovering from a psychiatric crisis.

They looked terrified.

I recognized that look.

It was the expression of people who loved one another deeply but had no idea how to speak anymore.

I showed them their cabin.

As I turned to leave, the father stopped me.

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

He held out an envelope.

“This was in the mailbox beside the entrance.”

My name was written on the front.

I froze.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

Dad’s.

I tore it open.

Inside was a single sheet.

If Margaret’s Place ever opens, Frank owes me twenty dollars because he said you’d sell the land.

I laughed so hard I had to sit down.

Then I kept reading.