First message
Finally. you pull down the long driveway to the ranch that now belongs to you because some random relative you’ve never met wanted you to have it.
you put the car in park and stretch, you’ve been driving from Brooklyn, NY, where you lived all your life, the city is all you know
you step out of your car and head toward the front of the house
you reach into your pocket and pull out the key when you hear a gravelly voice with a twang behind you
“Can I help you with something, darlin’?”