Chapter 23 - Olivia's Unexpected ConfessionOlivia arrived on Saturday morning carrying a box of old papers.
"I found these while cleaning out the storage room," she said. "Some of them might belong with Dad's documents."
I let her in.
We spent the morning sorting receipts, photographs, and handwritten notes. Most were ordinary family records, but one envelope contained letters between Dad and my grandfather from the years before the lodge settlement.
Olivia read them quietly.
Then she stopped.
"Becca, I need to tell you something."
I looked up.
"What happened?"
She sat across from me.
"Last year, when Jason's business was failing, I contacted a real estate agent."
My chest tightened.
"What agent?"
"Someone who worked with vacation properties. I asked whether the lodge could be used as collateral for a family loan."
I stared at her.
"You did what?"
"I didn't sign anything. I didn't transfer anything. But I asked questions about whether your property could help us financially."
"Without asking me?"
She nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.
"I was desperate. I thought if I could find a way to save Jason's business, everything would go back to normal."
"Did the agent contact North Ridge?"
"I don't know. The agent mentioned knowing people involved in regional development, but I never gave permission for anyone to use your property information."
I stood and walked toward the window.
For a moment, the room felt like it had the previous winter, when I discovered that my own family had been treating my home as a solution to their problems.
"Why are you telling me now?"
"Because I don't want another secret to become a weapon later."
That answer stopped me.
Olivia continued.
"I was wrong. Even if nothing was signed, I had no right to explore ways of using something that belonged to you. I understand that now."
I turned around.
"Did you give anyone copies of the deed?"
"No."
"Did you tell them about the spring?"
"I mentioned that the property had a water source, but I didn't provide documents or make promises."
I called Margaret and explained what Olivia had told me. She advised us to preserve any remaining correspondence and verify whether the agent had shared information with North Ridge.
The inquiry found no evidence that Olivia had authorized a transfer or that the earlier conversation created any legal rights over my property.
Still, I felt disappointed.
Trust wasn't rebuilt simply because a mistake had no legal consequences.
That afternoon, Olivia helped me repair a loose hinge on the workshop door.
We worked in silence for nearly an hour.
Finally, she said, "Do you think you'll ever trust me completely again?"
I considered giving her the comforting answer she wanted.
Instead, I told the truth.
"I don't know. But I can see that you're trying."
She nodded.
"I'll take that."
When we finished, we stood beside the workshop and watched sunlight spill across the mountain meadow.
"I used to think being your sister meant I should always be able to count on you," she said.
"You can count on me to love you. That doesn't mean I'll always agree with you."
She smiled sadly.
"I wish I'd understood that years ago."
"So do I."
Before leaving, she hugged me.
It was a careful embrace, without the old expectation that affection would erase every disagreement.
After she drove away, I returned to the dining table and looked at the documents we'd sorted.
Our family had spent years confusing protection with control.
Now, slowly, we were learning the difference.
May you like
I hoped the lesson would last.
Because another change was coming to the mountain, and I had a feeling it would test every promise we'd made.
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