“Corporate. Multi-state. Designed to be invisible.”
Silence stretches across the line.
“And your mother?”
“She’s the client,” I say.
“Not the architect.”
That realization settles heavily in my chest.
Because if she’s only the client…
Then someone even colder is running the war.
56
Saint
Ihate this kind of fight.
You can’t see the enemy.
You can’t hit him.
You can’t even prove he’s there.
I walk down Main Street slowly.
The afternoon sun makes everything look normal.
Too normal.
The café windows glow warm.
The bakery smells like cinnamon and sugar.
Miller’s store stands dark and boarded.
A ghost waiting for paperwork to decide its future.
“They’re being outspent,” Wolf says quietly beside me.
“They’re being outmaneuvered,” I reply.
That’s the real problem.
Money is only a weapon if you know where to point it.
At the end of the street, Laney stands near the truck with the baby.
She rocks the carrier gently while talking to Mrs. Whitaker.
For a moment the scene looks peaceful.
Like a town living its life.
But I know better.
