“I think,” Ashton says carefully, “when someone announces a detox, someone made them tired. Emotionally.”
I exhale slowly. “It doesn’t change anything. Whatever is—or isn’t—happening between him and me is still… unclear.”
She studies me. “You punched bread earlier.”
“That was unrelated.”
The bell over the door rings.
And then stops.
It’s the health inspector. Again.
He doesn’t say a word. Just walks in, drops a thick envelope on the counter, and leaves as quickly as he came.
Ashton and I stare at each other. Then at the envelope.
She picks it up and frowns. “That’s… a lot of paper.” She sets it between us.
The return address makes my stomach flip before I even open it. Public Health. Fire Prevention. Municipal Compliance. All in one very official-looking stack.
“Um,” I say quietly. “That’s… the inspection results, isn’t it?” With hands that tremble, I open it. And just… stare.
There are pages. Multiple pages. Checklists. Citations. Codes. Numbers. And at the bottom:FINES DUE. REINSPECTION REQUIRED. FAILURE TO COMPLY MAY RESULT IN TEMPORARY CLOSURE.
My heart drops. “They’re citing us for multiple violations,” I say. I flip the page. “And… fire code.”
Ashton goes still. “Fire code?”
“They’re saying the storage layout violates clearance regulations. The extinguisher placement. The exit signage.”
“And?” she asks carefully.
“And there’s a deadline.” My voice comes out thin. “And fines.”
“How bad?”
I look at the number. And feel something drop straight through me. “I… don’t have that,” I say quietly.
Ashton reads faster now, her eyes focusing. “This is aggressive. You’ve never had issues like this before.”
“They can do this?” I ask.
“Technically, yes,” she answers. Then she stops. Rereads. “But something’s off.” She taps the paper. “This is a squeeze.”
I look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Half of these could’ve been warnings. Or fix-it notices. Instead, they waited. Then stacked everything. Then added fire code.”
My pulse thuds in my ears.
“They’re trying to scare you,” she says. “Shut you down.”
“Who is?”
Her expression hardens. “The developer.”
My stomach twists.
