A single mom took a risky bet, dropping her last $900 on a rundown, abandoned house. What she found inside changed her life for good

There was a large living room connected to an old-style kitchen. The walls were cracked, with stained patches from leaks. Upstairs were four bedrooms, all severely damaged.

Within minutes, Alex was coughing from the dust. Quickly, Anna brought him outside, handing him his inhaler. We definitely can’t sleep here tonight, honey.

Let’s think of something else. As dusk settled, Anna realized there were no motels or hotels nearby. She decided to park her car beside the porch and recline the seats as makeshift beds.

Alex fell asleep from exhaustion. But Anna lay awake, troubled by every gust of wind, rustling leaves, or snapping branches. She wondered if she’d made a disastrous mistake, sinking her last $900 into this wreck.

Yet what other choice did she have? The next morning, the sound of a truck engine woke Anna. A battered pickup pulled in near the driveway, and out stepped a petite, elderly lady, around 70, with silver hair and a neat bun, carrying a woven basket. Good morning, she greeted warmly.

I’m Evelyn Barnes, living about half a mile away. I noticed car lights here last night, figured someone new had arrived. I brought some bread and hot coffee for you and your boy.

Anna hesitated briefly, then introduced herself. Oh, hello. I’m Anna Cooper, and this is my son Alex.

We just bought this house. Evelyn looked surprised. My, you’re brave.

This place was once the Brown Farm. Stephanie Brown, a herbalist and researcher, vanished under strange circumstances, and ever since, people call it cursed. I don’t believe in curses, but it’s certainly shrouded in mystery.

Anna felt a slight chill at the mention of a curse, but she brushed it off, gratefully thanking Evelyn for her kindness. While they were talking, another pickup arrived. This time, it was a sturdy-looking, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a solid jaw, accompanied by a teenage girl of about 13.

Hello there. I’m James Miller, a local contractor, and this is my daughter Lily. I heard someone bought the Brown Place last night, so I came by to check it out.

Anna recognized his last name, likely the same Miller from the auction. James smiled. Yes, I was at the auction too, but when I saw how determined you were, I backed off.

I figured you needed it more than I did. If you want a hand, I’m happy to advise free of charge. Anna was touched, not knowing how she would repay him.

But James insisted, Consider it neighborly help. Out here in the country, folks look out for each other. After a quick tour of the property, James said bluntly, Good news is that the foundation is pretty solid, made of old stone from the 19th century.

Bad news. The roof’s rotten, wiring is ancient, pipes are shot, and mold is everywhere. A total renovation might run $25,000, $30,000.

Do you have any financing options? Anna felt her heart sink. I can’t take out a loan. My credit’s terrible, and I have no money left.

James paused thoughtfully, then offered, I’ve got a small travel trailer. Has a water tank, some bunks. If you want, you can stay there on the property for now, save on rent.

As for fixing this place, we can do it step by step. You help me with the labor, and I won’t charge for my time. Whenever you’re in a better position, you can settle up.

Tears welled up in Anna’s eyes, overwhelmed by his generosity. Within a day, James towed a camper trailer onto a cleared patch by the farmhouse. It wasn’t luxurious, but it had a sink, a small gas stove, and a pair of bunk beds, plus a basic water supply from the old well, albeit needing rudimentary filtering…