Sophie stood still, watching the dust clear. The road was becoming visible again, but her focus was on the envelope lying there. Her heart raced. Next to her, her grandmother sat quietly, worry etched on her face. Finally, Sophie bent down and grabbed the envelope. Her fingers shook as she broke the seal and unfolded the two papers inside. The first one was a Purchase Agreement and Ownership Transfer. She hesitated before looking at the second sheet. It was an eviction notice.
As she read the dates, her breath hitched. Three months had gone by since the notice was issued. Just one week left. Anger flared up inside her. She turned to her grandmother, whose weary eyes searched for reassurance. Sophie forced a calm smile, the kind that shouted "I'm okay" while everything felt wrong. She stuffed the papers back into the envelope and placed it on the table. Standing was tough; her legs felt like lead. People walked by, but she didn't have the energy to call out.
Then she heard it—the familiar sound of Madam Cecilia's old motorbike: "Vruuuum, vruuuuuum!" The bike sputtered and finally stopped at Sophie's stall. Even John, her brother who loved books, glanced up.
"Freshly baked," Cecilia teased, but Sophie didn't reply. Her usual energy was nowhere to be found.
"Are you alright?" Cecilia asked softly.
Sophie managed a faint nod.
"I'll take those three," Cecilia said, pointing to a few small loaves.
Sophie reached for them, but her hands trembled. One loaf slipped and fell to the ground. Silence fell over everyone. Sophie quickly picked it back up and handed the wrapped bread to Cecilia.
"Five bucks," she murmured.
Cecilia studied her, then handed over some crumpled bills. "Are you sure you're okay, Sophie?" she asked, using her real name this time.
Sophie nodded weakly.
"If you say so. We'll talk later," Cecilia said with a sigh. She revved her bike, which groaned loudly.
John rushed to open the rusty gate, its creaking joining the bike's noise in a symphony of protest.
"Thank you, John," Cecilia said as he gave a small smile and returned to his book.
Sophie sat back down beside her grandmother, avoiding her gaze. Another harsh cough erupted from the old woman. Sophie held her close, tears welling up but refusing to spill.
Hours later, the Mercedes-Benz cruised into St. Luke's Town. It was a small but more developed place compared to Fox Hollow. No tall buildings loomed here, but there were paved roads, a sheriff's office, a county court, and a bank. The vehicles around weren't fancy, but they had a clear mission. The Benz rolled into the garage of AppleCrest Motel, its sign flickering in the dim evening light.
The elderly driver hurried to open the door, but Ridge burst out first, almost knocking the man over. He strode into the motel with a sense of pride, flanked by his two associates. At his suite door, the younger man struggled with the key, his hands shaking. After a tense moment, the door finally clicked open.
"I need drinks," Ridge said, barely glancing at the older man, who dashed off.
Inside, Ridge flopped onto a plush couch, his eyes glued to his phone. The second man lingered awkwardly nearby. Moments later, the elderly man returned with a tray of wine and a glass. He set it on the table. Ridge grabbed the glass without looking and took a sip, eyes still on the screen.
"Get out," he said flatly. "But don't go far. I don't want to call twice."
The men left, and Ridge muttered, "Fools."
Just then, a phone rang. He opened a drawer, pulled out a second phone, and smiled at the caller ID.
"Hello, Dad. Guess what—I've seen the property," he said, his voice bright before it quickly turned sour.
"My bad. Good evening, Dad," he corrected, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, but plans have changed. Fox Hollow is a dump. Building a hotel there would be a disaster and a waste of money."
He paused, listening. "I don't know yet. Maybe a plastic factory, a sugar plant, or another Classy Wears branch."
"Okay, say hi to Mom. Bye." He hung up and hissed.
"Beeeeennnnnnn!" Ridge shouted. The elderly man came running.
***
The night felt thick with tension. Fox Hollow's streets were quiet, almost like a deserted graveyard. Flickering streetlights cast faint halos.
In a simple living room lacking modern comforts, Sophie sat on a worn cushion. She had her legs crossed, one hand resting on her cheek while her elbow leaned into her thigh. She was deep in thought, anxiety swirling in her mind. From the bedroom, her grandmother's persistent cough echoed through the thin walls. Outside, chaos erupted—Mae and Grace, two neighbors turned rivals, were at it again.
"I'll teach your stupid son a lesson if he ever poops on my doorstep again!" Mae yelled.
"Better to have a child than none!" Grace shot back.
"I'd rather be childless than raise a boy who treats the apartment like a toilet!" Mae countered.
Sophie winced. The noise broke her concentration. She stood up and began pacing, her bare feet feeling the chill of the floor. Suddenly—knock. She stopped. Another knock. Then a third.
"Who's there?" she called out, cautious about visitors at this hour.
"Jack," came the response. His deep, familiar voice sent a chill through her, even though she recognized it.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her voice soft but steady.
"Just open up," Jack urged.
Sophie hesitated, then walked to the door and fumbled with the rusted lock. It groaned as she turned it.
Outside was Jack, a teenage boy her age, but his build suggested a life of hard work. His muscles weren't from the gym; they were shaped by survival.
"What do you need, Jack?" Sophie asked.
"Got any spare bread or cookies? I can't sleep. My stomach's growling," he replied, clutching his side. His eyes showed the quiet desperation of someone who hadn't eaten in days.
"Hang on," Sophie said, disappearing for a moment. She returned with a plastic bag.
"Here. This should help."
Jack took it with a grateful smile. "Thanks," he said, starting to turn away but then paused.
"What are we going to do about those two?" he asked, nodding toward the ongoing argument.
Sophie shrugged. "It's a habit. They'll sort it out eventually."
Jack chuckled. "With their noise and my hunger, sleep's out of the question." He gave her a faint smile, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.
"I should go. Good night, Sophie," Jack said, suddenly shy. He turned and walked away.
"Goodnight, Jack," Sophie replied.
She sighed and closed the door, the rusty lock groaning as it clicked shut.