In trying to protect Hannah, he'd broken her completely.
And no amount of love could fix that.
No truth could undo that damage.
No redemption could make it right.
He'd chosen duty over her heart.
He was a damnable fool.
CHAPTER 16
Hannah
Hannah's heelsclicked against the marble floors of Crystal Lake's town hall. The sound echoed in the empty corridor, each step feeling like a countdown. Her grandmother's business license, framed and worn with age, was clutched in her hands.
The council chamber doors loomed ahead. Through the frosted glass, she could see shapes moving—dozens of them. The entire town had turned out to watch her fight for her bakery's survival.
She recognized every face as she walked in. Mrs. Peterson, who'd taught her Sunday school. Tommy Mercer's mother, who'd helped her practice for her driver's test. Bill Wilson, who'd danced with her at her high school graduation party.
Now they all found somewhere else to look.
Sarah, her assistant, was tucked in the back row. When Hannah caught her eye, Sarah quickly looked down at her hands. The rejection felt like a physical blow—this woman who'd been at her house for Christmas dinner last year couldn't even meet her gaze.
"Miss Everett." Council President Matthews barely looked up. "Please take a seat."
The wooden chair felt like a witness stand. Around her, whispers rippled through the crowd. She caught fragments:
"...her father's daughter..."
"...knew all along..."
"...can't trust any of them..."
"We're here to review the business license for Sugar & Spice Bakery." Matthews' voice carried that false neutrality she'd heard in the FBI interrogation room. "Given recent events, concerns have been raised about the establishment's connection to ongoing criminal investigations."
Hannah's fingers crumpled the edges of her folder. "Sugar & Spice's books are clean. Every transaction?—"
"We'll hear from the concerned parties first." Matthews nodded toward the crowd. "Mr. Harrison?"
Michael stood. In the harsh fluorescent lights, the shadows under his eyes looked deeper, his suit hanging looser than ever. But his voice was steady as he approached the podium.
"My family has served this town for three generations." He didn't look at Hannah. "Our pharmacy helped people. We gave credit when times were hard. Extended payment plans for those who needed it. We were part of this community."
Were. Past tense. Hannah's stomach twisted.
"Then Richard Everett came to us with an investment opportunity. A chance to expand, to help more people." Michael's knuckles went white on the podium. "He knew aboutmy mother's medical bills. Knew we were stretched thin. He said he could help."
The room was silent now. Waiting.
"We trusted him. I trusted him." Finally, Michael turned to face her. "I sat in your bakery every week, Hannah. Watched you take notes in those meetings. Watched you smile and pour coffee while your father stripped us of everything."
"I didn't—" Hannah's voice cracked. "I never knew?—"
"My mother can't afford her heart medication anymore." Michael's voice rose. "My sister's scholarship? Worthless without money for books and housing. The pharmacy? Everything my grandfather built, gone. Because we trusted your father. Trusted your family."
The truth of it hit her like physical blows. Every accusation landed precisely because she remembered those meetings. Remembered Michael's smile as he'd talked about expanding the pharmacy. Remembered her father's hand on his shoulder, promising everything would work out.
