Andrew read the deed again that evening, light flickering over its faded ink. The repetition was too precise to be an error. “House, garden, and garden grounds.” “Garden to be preserved in perpetuity.” Each phrase landed like a dropped stone. The garden wasn’t just mentioned, but practically shouted from every page.
He muttered aloud, “Why the garden, Uncle?” The house made sense, the land too, but why the obsessive emphasis on overgrown hedges and moulding statues? He shoved the document away, irritated. Yet when he closed his eyes that night, the word still pulsed behind his eyelids: garden, garden, garden…