“They’ve also purchased the note on three other properties on Main Street.”
Silence crashes down like a weight.
I feel Saint’s muscles tighten beside me.
“They can’t do that,” a woman near the aisle says.
“They can,” the mayor replies quietly.
“They already did.”
Voices erupt all at once.
“Why here?”
“What do they want?”
“This is a grab!”
Saint stands.
He doesn’t raise his voice.
He doesn’t slam a hand on the table.
But the room quiets anyway.
“They’re not here to help,” he says calmly.
“They’re here to control.”
A few people nod slowly.
Others exchange worried glances.
Miller stands too.
“We don’t sell,” he says suddenly.
His voice grows stronger with every word.
“We rebuild. We stay. And we don’t hand this town to someone who thinks they can buy it.”
Applause breaks out.
Louder than I expect.
Saint glances at me.
And in that moment I understand something.
This isn’t just about us anymore.
It’s about home.
43
Marco
