“Better. Still useless, but better.”
“Useless for dancing, maybe,” Josie says. “But you’ve done more for this community in two weeks than most people do in a lifetime.”
I feel my face heat. “I just talked some kids through a dance routine.”
“You did more than that,” Josie corrects. “You showed them they matter, gave them a way to have a voice in all this. To a kid who’s normally pushed out of grown-up things, that’s pretty cool. They’ll remember this.”
Dad’s looking at me with a soft expression. It’s something I’m not used to seeing from him. Pride, maybe. Or just relief that I’m here in front of him.
“The town meeting starts at seven,” Josie says, shifting into business mode. “We’re expecting about two hundred people based on RSVPs. The kids perform first, then we open it up for public comment.”
“Two hundred?” I blink. “That’s half the east side.”
“Sounds like it’ll be a good turnout,” Dad says. “Tank and Hawk have been knocking on doors, explaining what’s happening. People are pissed. They don’t want condos taking over our mountain town.”
“Have you heard from Summit?” I ask. “Or what they’re calling themselves right now?”
“Carolina Properties,” Josie puts in. “They know about the meeting. Daniel Vernick RSVPed. He’s planning to speak.”
“Let him,” Dad says. “We’ve got our own speakers lined up. Erica, the Thompsons, Mr. Rooney from the corner store. Real people with real stories about what this neighborhood means to them.”
“And we’ve got Bones’s company research,” Josie adds. “If Vernick tries to paint himself as some innocent businessman, we can show exactly who he’s connected to.”
I think about Bones, holed up with Axel for the past two weeks, barely sleeping, following paper trails and corporate connections. He’s been in his element—focused, driven, useful in the way he needs to be.
“Is it enough?” I ask. “To stop them?”
Dad and Josie exchange a look.
“Tonight’s not about stopping them,” Dad says finally. “Tonight’s about showing them we’re not going to make it easy, making sure the community is on the same page. Summit needs to know that every step they try to take, we’ll be there, fighting back.”
“And about the election?” I press. “If Vernick becomes mayor?—”
“We’ll focus on the elections a little down the track,” Dad says. “One battle at a time, Em.”
But I can see the worry in his eyes. Summit’s obviously been playing the long game, and we’re scrambling to catch up.
We head out to Dad’s truck, him helping me navigate the stairs with my crutches. Josie drives separately—still maintaining the fiction that they’re not together—and Dad waits until she’s out of the parking lot before starting the engine.
“So,” I say as we pull onto the main road. “You and Josie.”
His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “There’s no me and Josie.”
“Dad. Come on.”
“We’re working together. That’s all.”
“You’re working together every night until midnight. You’re always together. Always giving each other those goo-goo eyes.”
“The fuck are goo-goo eyes?”
I turn to him and do my best impression of a goofy lovesick cartoon character and he scoffs.
“We do not look at each other like that.”
I reach down and adjust my boot, trying to find a comfortable position. “It’s OK, you know. To like someone. To want something for yourself.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, just driving.
