"Your father stole everything from us." Michael's voice shook. "You sat there and watched him do it. You don't deserve that bakery. You don't deserve anything."
Hannah fought to breathe through the weight crushing her chest. Because she could see it now—all the signs she'd missed. The way her father had always handled the paperwork. The meetings she'd sat in on without really understanding. The trust she'd taken for granted.
"The bakery is clean." Her voice sounded far away. "I can show you?—"
"Like your father showed us the pharmacy's books were clean?" Michael laughed, harsh and broken. "Like he showed us the investment accounts were safe? Your father's a thief, Hannah. And you're either complicit or stupid. I'm not sure which is worse."
The council chamber blurred. Hannah blinked hard, refusing to let them see her cry.
"I have evidence." She forced her hands steady as she opened her folder. "Bank statements, receipts?—"
"We'll review the documentation." Matthews cut her off. "The council will convene privately to discuss?—"
"She doesn't deserve a chance to explain!" Michael's shout made Hannah flinch. "My mother doesn't get a chance to appeal her medical bills. My sister doesn't get a chance to finish college. Why should she get to keep anything?"
The room erupted in voices. Agreements. Accusations. Years of trust shattering like her bakery window.
"Wait."
The single word cut through the chaos. Hannah's heart stopped as Jake stood up from the back of the room. He wasn't in his FBI suit now—just jeans and a worn flannel shirt, looking more like her Jake than Agent Cooper.
"I want to speak."
Matthews frowned. "Agent Cooper?—"
"Not Agent. Not anymore." Jake's voice carried clearly through the suddenly silent room. "I spent seven months investigating Richard Everett's financial dealings. I saw every transaction,every account, every paper trail." His eyes found Hannah's for a moment before moving to the council. "Sugar & Spice was clean. Completely clean. Hannah Everett ran that business exactly as her grandmother did—honest books, legitimate accounts, nothing hidden."
"She had to know—" Michael started.
"No." Jake cut him off. "She didn't. Richard Everett deliberately kept his daughter's business separate from his illegal activities. He used her legitimate business as cover, yes. But Hannah wasn't part of it. She didn't know."
The certainty in his voice made Hannah's throat tight. After everything he'd done, how dare he stand here defending her? How dare he make her feel grateful for his support?
"The FBI has confirmed this," Jake continued. "Hannah Everett is innocent. Punishing her for her father's crimes won't bring justice to anyone. It will just destroy one more innocent person's life."
Hannah stared at her hands, blinking hard against the tears threatening to fall. Because she could feel it—the way the room's energy shifted. The way some of the anger bled away. The way her friends finally, finally looked at her again.
All because of Jake.
Jake, who'd betrayed her.
Jake, who'd destroyed her trust.
Jake, who was still trying to protect her even now.
She didn't know whether to thank him or scream.
Her father had done this.
Had hurt these people.
Had destroyed their lives.
And she had smiled and poured coffee and never questioned a thing.
The council's decision to "review the matter further" barely registered. She walked out of town hall in a daze, her heels clicking against marble that felt less solid with every step.
Everything she'd believed about her father, about her family, about herself—it was all built on shifting sand.
