When he pulls back, I'm breathless.
"Don't make me regret this," I whisper.
"I won't."
He leaves through the back door. Disappears into the dark.
I sit alone with empty glasses and think of everything that could go wrong.
My phone chimes one last time.
Email from Marcus Webb's assistant:Ms. Hale, following up on our meeting request. Mr. Webb has a proposal that could benefit both the seed program and local farmers. He's prepared to discuss significant funding if you're willing to consider new partnership models.
Significant funding.
The thing I've been chasing for years.
Offered by the man trying to destroy everything I've built.
I close the laptop.
Tomorrow I'll draft protocols. Schedule meetings. Build the case for why local matters.
Tonight I just need to believe that messy, complicated hope is stronger than polished, easy surrender.
Even if I'm not sure I'm right.
The town hallsmells like old wood and nervous sweat.
I stand in the back, watching Pine Hollow's residents file in. Farmer Hank with his worn cap. Mrs. Shay clutching her purse. The Kowalskis whispering to each other. Young families.Retirees. People I've known my whole life, faces creased with worry and hope in equal measure.
Mayor Elsie arranged this meeting in forty-eight hours. Called it a "community conversation about our future." No mention of Webb or developers or land sales. Just an invitation to talk.
Which means everyone knows exactly what this is about.
I find a seat near the side door. Escape route if I need it. My notebook sits heavy in my lap, pages filled with bullet points I rehearsed until three in the morning.
Rogan slides into the seat beside me.
"Thought you'd be prepping for dinner service," I murmur.
"Maya kicked me out. Said I was hovering." He's wearing clean jeans and a button-down, hair tied back, looking almost respectable. "You ready?"
"No."
"Good. Means you care." His knee bumps mine. Brief contact. Steadying.
Mayor Elsie calls the meeting to order. Her sunflower scarf is bright against the drab walls, a deliberate splash of optimism.
"Thank you all for coming," she says. "We're here tonight because our town is facing choices. Big ones. About land use, economic development, and what kind of future we want to build."
Murmurs ripple through the people.
"I've asked several community members to share their perspectives," Elsie continues. "Starting with Marcus Webb from Webb Industries."
My stomach clenches.
Webb rises from the front row. Charcoal suit. Perfect teeth. Carrying a tablet loaded with glossy presentations.
