The most important document was hidden between the pages of an old utility bill: the deed to a massive, sprawling property in Vermont. But the name printed at the top in crisp, legal font made me fall to the floor, my legs giving out from under me. It wasn’t my dad’s. It wasn’t my stepmother’s. It was mine. It had been since I was fourteen years old.

My grandmother, with the help of a trusted attorney, had ensured everything was properly filed, legally airtight. I had no idea. And now, that truth gave me more than land. It gave me power.