That should not be comforting.
It is.
Sloane straightens. “Worst case scenario, Benjamin pushes a review and tries to rattle people.”
“Best case,” Olivia adds, “The Hollow passes everything, and he looks dramatic.”
“Middle case,” Delaney says, “is noise. Social pressure. People choosing sides.”
Olivia nods. “Which means community matters.”
I blink. “Community?”
Ivy gestures around the shop. “Us. The farmers' market crowd. The moms. The small business owners. The people who actually go to trivia night and know what that place feels like.”
Sloane gives me a look. “Reputation isn’t built in council meetings. It’s built in kitchens and coffee shops.”
Olivia smiles gently. “You’re not alone in this, Aurora. Whether you meant to or not, you tied yourself to us when you tied yourself to them.”
“And we protect our own,” Delaney says simply.
“At three months pregnant, I’m hormonal and stubborn,” Olivia says lightly.
“At five months, I’m hormonal and terrifying,” Sloane adds. “No one will want to mess with me.”
“Correct,” Delaney agrees.
“And we have zero patience for men in blazers who say ‘optics,’” Ivy finishes.
I laugh before I can stop myself.
The tension in my chest loosens.
“What do I do?” I ask quietly.
Olivia doesn’t hesitate. “Keep showing up.”
Sloane adds, “Don’t overcorrect.”
Delaney says, “Don’t retreat.”
Ivy grins. “And maybe host a wildly wholesome event at The Hollow just to annoy him.”
My eyes light up.
“A bake sale,” I say slowly.
“Weaponized muffins,” Lani calls.
“Family movie night,” Olivia adds.
“Charity raffle,” Delaney suggests.
Sloane points at me. “You’re an event planner. Turn ‘safety concern’ into ‘town hub.’”
The panic shifts into possibility.
I look around at these women, this unexpected, formidable, cinnamon-scented coalition, and I feel my insides settle into place.
