“I’ve already sold the land. You have three days to leave.” Dona Conceição pressed the cell phone to her ear. Her lifeless eyes hadn’t cried in years, but her hands were trembling.

Amparo frowned.

Something wasn’t right.

The next day she showed the document to a neighbor who had once worked at a notary office.

He read it carefully.

His expression changed.

“— Where did you get this?”

“— It belonged to her husband.”

“— According to this… the property was never legally transferred to the son.”

Amparo’s heart pounded.

“— What?”

“— When the continue reading …