Aunt Susan hesitated for a moment, her voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia. "Seph, dear," she began, "it's about the farm, you see. Your grandfather left the place where your mother and I grew up together to her. To me, it's far more than just a property; it holds the most precious memories of my family and myself. It was the most important part of my childhood."
Seph carefully set down her cutlery. Though the dinner had been perfectly pleasant, she hadn't forgotten the real reason Aunt Susan had invited her. She listened quietly, a whirl of thoughts spinning in her mind. Images of the farm rose unbidden in her mind – happy times spent there with her parents, and the kind figure of her grandfather.
Aunt Susan, noticing Seph's silence, pressed on. "Actually, your mother had mentioned it before, saying that after... well, after she was gone, the inheritance could pass to me." Aunt Susan's voice dropped slightly, a note of something – perhaps tentative hope, perhaps veiled suggestion – entering it. "But, as you know, it wasn't ever formally done before she... before the accident happened."
"Mother mentioned that?" Seph looked up, her gaze steady and calm on Aunt Susan.
Caught by her clear gaze, Aunt Susan felt a sudden prickle of unease. There was something about Seph lately, something different. She seemed more mature, harder to read than Aunt Susan remembered, and it sparked a faint, unsettling fear in her.
But then, Aunt Susan reasoned, Seph had lived alone in the city for years; she couldn't possibly understand the farm properly. And with her parents gone... well, wasn't it simply up to her, now? She collected herself, therefore, and continued.
"Seph," Aunt Susan said, her voice now calm and carefully neutral. "About the farm... as I said, your grandfather left it to your mother. It's the place where your mother and I grew up, and for me, it's much more than just property – it holds so many precious memories." She paused, then continued, "Actually, your mother had discussed it with me when she was alive. She hoped that one day, I would inherit the farm. She even wrote a sort of rough draft about it, but, as you know, it wasn't ever formally settled before she... before she left us."
Uncle Richard listened silently beside her, offering no comment.
Seph nodded slowly when Aunt Susan finished. She didn't speak immediately. She knew Aunt Susan felt a particular attachment to the farm, but Seph herself felt a pull towards it, a fondness she couldn't easily dismiss.
Before... well, before things changed, losing her parents had nearly broken her. If Aunt Susan had tried to buy the farm back then, she would have refused outright. But after facing years of... difficult times, she had learned to look at death and deals with a cold, clear eye. Her mind worked quickly, weighing what the farm truly meant to her now, and what it could potentially provide.
Aunt Susan seemed slightly taken aback by Seph's lack of immediate reaction. She paused, then said in a tone meant to sound particularly sincere: "Seph, dear, Uncle Richard and I mainly wanted you to come tonight to discuss the farm properly. You know your mother always hoped I'd have it, and we've talked amongst ourselves about... about a suitable arrangement. We happen to have some funds available just now, and we genuinely want to talk this through with you, to see if we can come to an agreement that makes sense for everyone."
Seph, of course, understood perfectly what Aunt Susan and Uncle Richard were driving at. The Seph of before might have refused outright, driven by sentiment for the farm or a suspicion that Aunt Susan and her husband had ulterior motives. But the Seph forged by... difficult times, saw things with a far colder practicality.
While the farm certainly held a special sort of meaning for her, a significant sum of money would undoubtedly be an enormous help for her future plans.
So, Seph finally put her cutlery down altogether, looked up, and asked calmly, "Aunt Susan, what figure did you have in mind for purchasing the farm?"
Aunt Susan and Uncle Richard exchanged a quick glance. Then Aunt Susan said, her tone carefully gentle, "Seph, darling, we've thought about the farm, and we were thinking... perhaps five hundred thousand US dollars? How does that sound to you?"
She paused, then added quickly, "Seph, that's the absolute maximum we could manage. We were hoping it might help you buy a much nicer place in the city, you see. Make your life... easier."
Seph remained perfectly still. Her expression didn't change. She didn't answer right away. Inside, her mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons. Five hundred thousand was certainly a considerable sum, but making a decision right now... she would need more time.
So, she said, speaking slowly and carefully, "Thank you. This is a significant matter for me. I'd like to go back tonight and think it through properly, if that's alright?"
Uncle Richard, seeing his chance, spoke up quickly. "Of course, Seph, dear. Absolutely. It's a big thing, take all the time you need to think it over. We're not in any rush, not at all. Three days, five days, whatever you need. Just let us know when you've decided."
Seph nodded again and rose from the table. Everything that needed saying had been said. It was time to go.