“Among other things.” They would likely have to remove every book from the store. Finn was pretty sure Ollie wouldn’t have to get rid of the books, but having them in the store when the remediation team came in wouldn’t be good.
Finn found Ollie near the front of the store, carefully rearranging a display of new releases.
“Ollie,” Finn said, keeping his voice steady. “We need to talk.”
Ollie turned, something in Finn’s tone making him straighten immediately. “That sounds ominous. What’s wrong?”
“We’ve found mold in the ceiling. Extensive mold that’s not new.” Finn gestured toward the back of the store. “It looks like it’s been developing for some time, which means there may have been a slower leak or a moisture issue before the washing machine hose burst.”
Ollie’s face drained of color. “Mold? How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that we need to stop working and bring in specialists before we can continue.” Finn kept his tone professional, though Ollie’s distress made something twist painfully in his chest. “It’s a health concern, and it needs to be addressed before we can move forward with the ceiling repair.”
“And the cost?” Ollie’s voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain.
“Significant. But your insurance should cover it since it’s related to the water damage.” Even as he said it, Finn remembered the fragments of phone conversations he’d overheard. He made a mental note to ask Keaton if he knew anything about the percentage deductible he’d heard Ollie mention when he was talking to his dad. It didn’t sound standard to Finn, but he alsowasn’t an expert at this sort of thing. He could easily mind his own business, but he wanted to make sure Ollie’s family wasn’t being taken advantage of.
Ollie’s laugh was hollow. “Right. Insurance. The same insurance that’s already dragging its feet on the initial claim.” He pushed his glasses up, blinking rapidly. “Man, this sucks. I’d say it can’t get any worse, but knowing my luck, it would.”
“I’m sorry,” Finn said, meaning it deeply. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”
“Yeah, you can say that again,” Ollie scoffed, the words almost lost in a crack of thunder outside. He took a deep breath. “Okay. So we need mold specialists. And that means more delays, more costs, more time with the store in chaos.”
“Yes,” Finn confirmed. “We work with a few that are very good, so I will start reaching out to them to see when they can get in here. Also, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but now that we’ve discovered the issueandit’s exposed, I strongly recommend you shut down until the remediation is complete. I’ll know for certain once I talk to them, but you may have to empty the store as well, so none of the books get damaged.”
“Fuck. That’s just what I needed to hear.” Ollie’s voice cracked, his shoulders slumping forward. “I need to call my parents. Let them know. This is going to suck so hard.”
His hand trembled slightly as he reached for his phone.
“Take whatever time you need,” Finn said. “We’ll secure the area and make sure everything’s safe before we leave today.”
Ollie nodded vaguely, already pulling out his phone as he headed toward the back office. Finn wanted to follow, to offer some kindof comfort, but instead, he returned to the work area, where Brendan was already talking to Keaton on the phone.
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Brendan was saying. “Finn thinks we need to bring in the mold guys before we can continue… No, he’s telling Ollie now… Yeah, I can imagine.”
As Finn worked on covering the exposed areas with plastic sheeting, Ollie’s voice occasionally rose just enough to carry—strained, defensive, increasingly desperate.
“I get what you’re saying, Mom. But I’m not walking away from the store—not now, not ever. I know it’s been tough, and I get that you and Dad are tired. But you built something worth saving. I care about you both, and I care about this place. It means everything to us.”
A particularly loud clap of thunder drowned out the rest, but Finn had heard enough to piece together the situation. The bookstore wasn’t just Ollie’s passion. It was his parents’ investment, a piece of their family history. And now it was in jeopardy.
After everyone else left, Finn walked toward the back of the store instead of leaving. Ollie was in the reading nook near the damaged section, surrounded by stacks of water-damaged books. He sat cross-legged on the floor, a notebook open beside him, carefully examining each volume and making notes.
“You don’t have to stay,” Ollie said without looking up. “I’m fine on my own.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” Finn replied, stepping closer. “And I wanted to make sure you’re okay before I take off.”
Ollie nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m just peachy. Every time I think things can’t possibly get worse, something else happens. I have all these books that will have to be thrown out after I inventory them, the building is disintegrating around me, and now my parents are talking about cutting their losses.”
The bitter edge in his voice was new. Without thinking about it, Finn moved to sit on the floor across from Ollie, careful not to disturb the organized chaos of books.
“It’s not disintegrating,” he said gently. “It’s a mess, but fixable.”
Ollie looked up then, his eyes red-rimmed behind his glasses. “Is it though? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like the universe is sending a pretty clear message about the viability of small-town bookstores in the digital age.”
“The universe doesn’t send messages via washing machines,” Finn said firmly. “This is bad luck, not a cosmic verdict.”
A ghost of a smile touched Ollie’s lips. “That’s surprisingly poetic.”
