After my father’s death, I inherited his farm — along with a long-standing feud with our neighbors,

the Walters. I never knew the reason behind the hostility until the day after the funeral.

While going through my father’s belongings, I found an envelope with my name on it. Before opening it,

I saw the farmhouse vandalized with red paint and words like “Liar” and “Thief.” Security footage revealed the culprit: Carlos, Walter’s son.

When I confronted them, Carlos yelled, “Your family ruined ours!” I didn’t understand — until I read my father’s letter.

In it, he confessed that years ago, he and Walter planned to buy the farm together. But when my mother was pregnant,

he panicked, took Walter’s money, and claimed the farm solely for himself. “I built everything on betrayal,” he wrote. “I’m sorry.”

The truth crushed me. Walter’s hatred wasn’t envy, but heartbreak. That night, I brought him the farm keys.

“This land should have been yours,” I said. “My father’s mistake ends with me.” Walter broke down, and even Carlos admitted, “I was wrong about you.”

Though I couldn’t change the past, I chose peace — ending decades of bitterness with one letter.