Eight months after Caleb Harmon was buried in the cold rain of a March afternoon, Nadia sat in her lawyer’s office, silently watching his family divide his life as if she had never existed as his wife
Eight months after Caleb Harmon was buried in the cold rain of a March afternoon, Nadia sat in her lawyer’s office, silently watching his family divide his life as if she had never existed as his wife.
They sat opposite her across a gleaming mahogany desk. Her mother-in-law, Eleanor, wore an elegant black silk dress, her face devoid of grief, only filled with calculation. Beside her sat Richard and Thomas, her two brothers-in-law who had always looked at Nadia with disdain ever since Caleb introduced her. To them, Nadia was just a poor girl from the suburbs, lucky enough to catch the eye of the wealthy youngest Harmon son.
“The suburban house, the bank savings account, and Caleb’s shares in the logistics company will be transferred to the family fund,” the lawyer cleared his throat, reading the will drawn up before Caleb’s marriage. Caleb died so suddenly in a car accident, and he hadn’t had time to update his inheritance rights. Legally, Nadia was practically penniless.
Eleanor smirked, pushing an old envelope toward Nadia. “But we’re not that heartless. Caleb has a property in his name, inherited from his grandfather. The family has decided to transfer ownership of it to you.”
Richard couldn’t help but chuckle. Thomas covered his mouth and coughed to hide his sarcasm.
Nadia opened the envelope. Inside was a certificate of ownership for a small wooden shack on the Piedmont mountains, along with a property valuation report from the 1970s. Its value then, and probably even now after depreciation, was a mere… three dollars. A barren piece of land on a rocky mountaintop, a dilapidated shack without electricity or running water.
“It suits you perfectly, Nadia,” Eleanor said, her voice laced with bitter sweetness. “Quiet, far from the city. You can go up there to remember Caleb.”
They mocked her. They gave her a three-dollar piece of junk to humiliate her, to ensure she would leave the Harmon family penniless. Nadia clenched her fingers until they turned white. She looked into Eleanor’s eyes, neither crying nor begging. She tucked the paper into her purse, stood up, and said only one thing: “Thank you for your kindness.”
The Three-Dollar Hut
Two days later, Nadia drove her old car up the Piedmont mountains. The road to the summit was rough, full of rocks and weeds. When the wooden hut appeared before her, Nadia felt a pang of bitterness. It was worse than she had imagined.
The pine planks had turned a dull gray from the rain and sun, the roof sloped at a precarious angle, and the front door was loose, creaking with every gust of wind. Surrounding it was a gloomy, ancient pine forest. This place was like a deserted tomb, forgotten by time.
Nadia pushed open the door and stepped inside. The musty smell and dust assaulted her nostrils. In the corner of the room was a rusty spring bed, a broken-legged table, and a crude stone fireplace.
“Caleb…” Nadia whispered, tears she had held back for eight months suddenly bursting forth. She knelt on the dusty floor. She remembered her husband’s warm smile, the way he always protected her from her family’s harsh words. Why did he leave so soon? Why did he leave her alone to face this cruel world?
Nadia stayed in the tent that night. She didn’t want to go back to the city, where every street corner reminded her of Caleb and every call was a mocking rant from the Harmon family. She burned some wood gathered around the house in the old fireplace, huddled in her duvet, and listened to the wind whistling through the cracks in the wooden walls.
The Secret Behind the Old Walls
The next morning, Nadia was awakened by a loud “crack.” A section of the ceiling, too rotten, had fallen, bringing down a large chunk of wooden wall directly above the fireplace. Dust flew everywhere.
When the dust settled, Nadia approached to clean up. But her eyes froze on the gap behind the double wall that had just been revealed. It wasn’t an empty space between two layers of planks. There was a thick, dull cast iron box, hidden deep in the wall cavity, secured with large screws.
Nadia’s heart pounded. Using a broken iron bar from the old bed, she mustered all her strength to pry the box out. The heavy box fell onto the wooden floor, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. Engraved on the lid were three initials: C.H. – Caleb Harmon. No, it was the signature of his grandfather, Charles Harmon, the veteran miner of yesteryear.
The box wasn’t locked, it was just heavily rusted. After a while of fumbling and banging, the lid snapped open with a dry, sharp sound.
Inside were not glittering gold and silver, but three things:
A worn-out leather-bound diary.
A thick, yellowed stack of documents.
A tightly knotted burlap bag.
Nadia tremblingly opened the burlap bag first. When she turned it upside down, dozens of rough, unpolished stones, shimmering with a mesmerizing emerald green, fell into her palm. They were raw emeralds.
She hastily opened her grandfather Charles’s diary. The last page he wrote was dated fifteen years ago, just before he died:
“To my grandson Caleb,
If you…”
Since you’re reading this, it means you’ve kept your promise never to sell this shack to your mother and brothers. I know Eleanor and her two older children. They’re greedy, valuing money more than family ties. They’re always trying to dig up my possessions, but they never set foot in this dilapidated shack.
They thought I was crazy to buy this land for three dollars from a mining friend in 1950. But they don’t know that this Piedmont mountain sits atop a rare emerald vein that has never been fully exploited. The accompanying documents are a government-issued, indefinite mining license for the entire valley behind the shack.
The rough emeralds in this bag are what I mined myself. I leave all mining rights to you, Caleb. “Use it for someone worthy, someone who loves you for who you are, not for the fame of Harmon.”
At the bottom of the box, Nadia found another small piece of paper, in newer handwriting, clearly Caleb’s. It had been written just weeks before his accident:
“Nadia, my love. If one day I am no longer here, and if my family treats you as I fear, come up to our three-dollar shack. Everything of mine, and of Grandpa, belongs to you.” “You are the greatest treasure of my life.”
Nadia clutched the paper to her chest, sobbing. Caleb hadn’t had time to amend the will at the lawyer’s office, but he had prepared this escape route for her beforehand. He knew his family’s true nature. They thought they had won by getting rid of her with a three-dollar inheritance, but in reality, they had thrown away a fortune worth tens of millions of dollars.
The Reversal of Fate
Six months later.
At the city’s most luxurious five-star hotel restaurant, the Harmon family was celebrating Richard’s appointment as the new CEO of the family company. However, the atmosphere wasn’t entirely cheerful. Their logistics company was in serious crisis due to a lack of investment capital and overdue debts.
“We need to find a major investor,” Thomas took a sip of wine, his eyebrows furrowed. “I heard that the newly emerging mining conglomerate Green Mountain just acquired the entire Piedmont region and is preparing to hold the biggest gemstone auction of the decade.” “If we can secure a shipping contract with them, the company will be saved.”
Eleanor nodded: “I’ve already sent a letter to the President of Green Mountain.” Their assistant said she would be dropping by the party today to take a look around.
Just then, the banquet hall doors swung open. Whispers and murmurs arose from the guests. A woman entered, drawing everyone’s attention. She wore an elegant emerald green evening gown, her neck adorned with a large, perfectly cut emerald that radiated a regal glow. Her face was delicate, her eyes resolute, and her demeanor incredibly confident.
Eleanor stood up abruptly, Richard nearly dropping his glass.
“Nadia?!” Thomas exclaimed, his voice trembling.
Nadia Harmon – the daughter-in-law they had driven away with the three-dollar tent – now stood before them, surrounded by two bodyguards and the city’s top lawyer.
“Hello, Eleanor, Richard, Thomas,” Nadia smiled, her voice calm but icy cold. “Long time no see.”
“You… why are you here?” “The Green Mountain Corporation…” Eleanor stammered, her heavily made-up face suddenly turning pale.
“I am the Chairwoman of Green Mountain,” Nadia said calmly, walking closer to their table. She placed a stack of documents bearing the mountain logo on the table. “And I am also the legal owner of the largest emerald vein in the Piedmont region.” “Do you remember that three-dollar piece of land you ‘donated’ to me eight months ago?”
Richard’s face went pale. He recalled the old valuation bill he had once scoffed at. They had only looked at the dilapidated shack, unaware that Grandfather Charles had hidden all the ownership papers for the mine worth hundreds of millions of dollars right there.
“Nadia… we’re family,” Eleanor tried to force a smile, her voice trembling as she reached out to take her hand. “Caleb certainly wouldn’t want to see you treat the family like this…”
Nadia recoiled, avoiding the disgusting touch. Her eyes flashed with sharpness and determination.
“When you divided Caleb’s estate and mocked me in the lawyer’s office, you didn’t consider me family,” Nadia said, her voice echoing in the silent banquet hall. “Caleb saw through your greed, that’s why he left this way out.” “Give it to me. The Harmon family will not receive a single penny from Piedmont, and your company shouldn’t even dream of touching a single stone of mine.”
Nadia turned and walked away, her emerald green dress sweeping across the carpet like a declaration of the Harmon family’s downfall. Behind her, Eleanor collapsed into her chair, while her two brothers-in-law could only stare at each other in belated regret.
The old walls of the three-dollar shack had crumbled, taking with them truth and justice to those who deserved it. Nadia looked up at the night sky.
