Preserving other people's stories while my own falls apart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Everett
“I want her gone.”
The words come out flat. Final.
“Everett—”
“Off my mountain. Today. Now. I don't care what it costs, I don't care what she threatens, I want Tara Greene and her entire crew packed up and driving down that road within the hour.”
Roman sets his coffee down carefully. “That's not a good idea.”
“I don't give a shit if it's a good idea.” My voice rises, and I don't bother to rein it in. “She recorded a private conversation. She posted footage of me fighting with my father. She's turning my family into content?—”
“And if you kick her out,” Nolan cuts in quietly, “you prove every word of it.”
My spine snaps straight and I can’t move. All I can do is stare at him.
“Think about it.” He leans against the doorframe,arms crossed, wearing that calm expression that makes me want to punch something. “The narrative right now is that you're an opportunist who doesn't respect legacy. That you came back for the inheritance and you're cashing in on your friends and your family name.”
“That's bullshit.”
“We know that. But if you throw Tara off the property the day after she posts damaging footage?” He shakes his head. “You're not the victim anymore. You're the guy who couldn't handle the truth coming out. You're the guy with something to hide.”
“I don't have anything to hide.”
I have everything to hide. Eleven years of everything.
But not this. Not the thing she's accusing me of.
“She wins if you react,” Roman says. “That's what she wants. One explosive moment she can spin into the climax of her story. Angry lodge owner throws out journalist after damaging exposé. It writes itself.”
“So what? I just—let her keep filming? Let her keep twisting everything?”
“For one more day.” Caleb steps forward, and for once, his face is serious. “Tomorrow's her last day. We push through today, we do the auction, we smile for the cameras, show her and everyone else how completely unaffected we are by her cheap shit take, and we give her nothing else to use. Then she leaves, and we figure out how to fix the narrative.”
“Fix it how?”
“I don't know yet.” He spreads his hands. “But I know burning it all down today isn't the answer.”
I turn away from them. Stare out the window at the mountain I've loved my whole life. The mountain my family built. The mountain I left because staying hurt too much, and came back to because leaving hurt worse.
I don't recognize it anymore.
My father's voice echoes in my skull.
The worst part is, I don't know if he's wrong.
“You know I didn't—” The words catch in my throat. I have to force them out. “I didn't bring you guys in just to... I wasn't using you. I wasn't?—”
“Everett.” Roman's voice is sharp. “Stop.”
I turn.
All three of them are looking at me with expressions I can't quite read.
