Jamie scrambles to gather his notes, excitement and nervousness warring across his features. "On it!"
Brakkor pauses at the door, his grey-green gaze meeting mine. "Stay here. Breathe, and maybe eat something, alright? Won't be too far."
The office feels hollow after they leave, filled only with the whisper of wind through the open window and the distant sounds of festival preparation.
A sharp tap against glass interrupts my concentration.
A raven perches in the window, its black feathers gleaming with an oily sheen. A rolled parchment dangles from its beak, secured with the same dark ribbon as the previous message.
My hands shake as I reach for it. The bird launches itself into the sky without waiting, as if eager to escape whatever message it carries.
The parchment feels heavier than it should, the ink still wet enough to smudge under my thumb:
Stop sneaking around where you shouldn't be. Some stones are better left unturned.
Ice spreads through my veins, settling in my stomach like a frozen weight. They know we were at the storage site. They've been watching us.
The door bursts open with enough force to rattle the frame, and Maddie stumbles in, her usually neat auburn hair escaping its bun in wild tendrils. Her freckled face carries the blotchy red marks of recent tears.
"Cal, I can't—" She stops abruptly, taking in my expression. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I crumple the letter in my fist, shoving it into my desk drawer. "Nothing that can't wait. What's happened?"
"Everything." Maddie collapses into Brakkor's abandoned chair, her hands twisting in her apron. "I just got word from Harvest Hollow's supplier. Half my festival order won't arrive until after the harvest celebration ends. The flour I have left might cover opening day, but barely."
"We can find alternative suppliers?—"
"With what money?" Maddie's voice cracks, desperation bleeding through her usual warmth. "I've already stretched mybudget thin preparing for the biggest sales week of the year. If I can't deliver what I've promised, if the bakery fails during festival season..."
She trails off, staring at her flour-dusted hands as if they belong to someone else.
"Mads, look at me." I move around the desk, kneeling beside her chair. "The bakery isn't going to fail. We're going to figure this out."
"You don't understand." Tears spill over, tracking clean paths through the flour on her cheeks. "This land, the orchard… is all I have left of my grandmother. She built it from nothing, and I swore I'd keep it thriving. But if there's no festival, no visitors, no reason for people to buy my pastries..."
Her voice dissolves into sobs that shake her entire frame.
"Thornak and I, we've been talking about what comes next if things don't improve. Maybe we'd have to leave, find work in a bigger town where there are more opportunities." She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "But I don't want to leave, Cal. This is home. This is everything."
The door opens again, gentler this time, and Brakkor's familiar silhouette fills the frame. His dark eyes take in the scene immediately—Maddie's tears, my protective posture, the tension crackling through the room.
"I saw her rush in. What's happened?"
Instead of deflecting or managing the situation alone, I find myself turning toward him with relief. "Another threatening letter. And get this: Harvest Valley Transport finally wrote Maddie back—just to tell her half her festival order won't be here until after the festival."
Brakkor's expression darkens as he steps fully into the room, closing the door behind him. "Show me the letter."
I retrieve it from the drawer, smoothing the wrinkled parchment before handing it over. His jaw tightens as he reads, tusks becoming more prominent with his growing anger.
"They're escalating because we're getting close." He looks between Maddie and me, decision crystallizing in his features. "Which means we push harder, not back down."
"What did you and Jamie discover?"
"Three companies purchased land around Harvest Hollow in the past few weeks. All tied back to the same name: Harvest Development Group." His voice carries the sharp edge of certainty. "I think this is about property."
The pieces click into place with sickening clarity. "But why go after businesses? Almost every shopkeeper in town is struggling. Everyone invests their last coin into preparing for the festival—if they can't get a return, Harvest Hollow becomes a memory."
CHAPTER 24
