“I know.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “I dealt with it.”
I stare at her. “You—what does that mean?”
“It means I took care of it.”
My breath catches, this time in a completely different way. “Ashton, that doesn’t make sense. You can’t just—take care of something like this.”
“I can,” she says gently. “And I did.”
She leans against the counter like she’s about to explain a recipe instead of dismantling my entire nervous system.
“I knew something was off,” she continues. “The way the inspection was handled. The way everything escalated. That wasn’t standard. So, I looked into him.”
My stomach flips. “You looked into thehealth inspector?”
“Yes,” she says. “And before you panic—professionally.”
“Please tell me what that means,” I whisper.
“It means I verified credentials. Compared reports. Checked procedure. And then I kept going.”
“And?”
“And he wasn’t doing everything by the book,” she says. “There were inconsistencies. Complaints. Things he shouldn’t have been doing. Nothing illegal—but not professional either.”
My pulse roars in my ears.
“Let’s just say his department has been made aware of his actions.”
I stare at her.
“You can just do things like that?” I say. “You’re making it sound like?—”
“Ella,” she interrupts softly. “All you need to know is that I handled it. Cleanly. Correctly. You don’t have to worry about today, the citations were… reconsidered.”
I swallow. “So, this is… over?”
She hesitates.
“For now,” she says. “They might come back eventually. Just not like this. And not today.”
The weight in my chest loosens—just a little.
I let myself lean against the counter, my knees suddenly weak. “So, we’re okay.”
“Yes,” she says. “We’re okay.”
I close my eyes for a moment, breathing for the first time all morning.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Then I look at her properly.
“You work here. You’re in law school. You didthis—when?” I ask. “This morning?”
