"You came here."
"I came because Monica Owens called me ten minutes ago and told me Cascadia is pausing West Ridge's Beargrass access option pending review."
"Good."
His jaw tightened. "That pause puts months of work at risk."
"It puts your lie at risk."
Daphne's hand shifted near mine.
Fletcher's eyes flicked to her. "Is that her word or yours?"
I stepped closer to the gate. "You don't talk to her about this."
"She works for Cascadia."
"She disclosed the conflict to her boss. She did her job. You should try that sometime."
Fletcher's smile thinned. "You've always been good at making yourself the honest one."
Gus made a low sound from the south row.
I kept my eyes on Fletcher. "I told you no."
"You said no to selling. Access can be structured."
"I told you no to access."
"You refused to sit down."
"Because no is shorter."
Daphne made a small sound beside me, almost a laugh, and Fletcher's face hardened.
"This is bigger than your garden," he said.
"The P-Patch is a city garden. My land is mine. Beargrass access is mine. You don't get to bundle them because a bigger sentence sounds better in a meeting."
"I was trying to get you a seat before the table moved without you."
"You were trying to build the table on my property."
The silence after that landed hard.
Fletcher looked past me toward the south fence and the pines beyond it. For a second, he looked less polished and more like my brother. Then his face closed again.
"You're going to regret refusing every opportunity that doesn't look exactly like your current life."
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm not going to regret refusing this one."
"You think Cascadia walking back one access option ends the pressure?"
"No. I think it ends your claim that I'm considering it."
He looked at Daphne again, and this time his voice sharpened. "You should be careful what you attach yourself to."
Daphne inhaled beside me.
