The man in the suit disappeared into the gray curtain of the downpour. The taillights of his car flickered like dying embers before vanishing. June sat in the cold mud. The water soaked through her clothes. It chilled her to the bone. The legal document in her hand was already damp. The ink began to bleed. The words "Notice of Sale" smeared into a dark blur.
She looked at the shattered crate. The apples she had worked so hard to save were bruised. They were sinking into the mire. Silas was gone. The money was gone. The hope that had flickered in her chest during the harvest was being extinguished by a cold, calculated corporate maneuver. Julian Thorne had not just attacked Silas. He had waited until Silas was trapped in a room without a phone to strike the final blow against the orchard.
"June? What are you doing out here?"
Miller's voice cut through the roar of the rain. He ran from his truck, holding a tarp over his head. He saw her sitting in the dirt. He saw the paper. He knelt beside her and pulled her up. His hands were warm. They were steady.
"The payment was frozen," June whispered. Her voice was cracked. "Silas. His accounts. Julian found a way to take the money back. The auction is tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock."
Miller took the paper. He read it under the dim light of the barn. His jaw tightened. He didn't look surprised. He looked like a man who had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I have some savings, June," Miller said. "It isn't three hundred thousand. It isn't even close. But maybe if I talk to the sheriff. Maybe if the town sees what is happening."
"The town can't stop a federal freeze, Miller," June said. she pulled away from him. she walked to the edge of the barn and looked toward the main house. The lights were on. Bea was in there, waiting for good news that wasn't coming. "Silas used us. He used this place to hide his tracks. Julian's man said Silas knew this would happen. He said the payment was just a distraction."
"Do you believe that?" Miller asked.
June looked at the mud on her hands. She thought about the way Silas had looked when he left. She thought about the iron stake they had found in the woods. "I don't know what to believe. I only know that in twelve hours, I won't have a roof over my mother's head."
In New York, the hotel room felt like a tomb. Silas paced the narrow floor. He had tried to call June ten times. Every call went to voicemail. He tried to call the county office. It was closed for the night. He felt a frantic, vibrating energy in his limbs. It was the feeling of being hunted while standing perfectly still.
A soft knock came at his door. Silas froze. He looked at the clock. It was two in the morning. He walked to the door and looked through the peephole.
It was Julian Thorne.
Julian wasn't wearing a suit. He wore a dark hoodie and jeans. He looked tired. He looked like a man who was losing everything and didn't care who he took down with him.
Silas opened the door. He didn't wait for Julian to speak. He grabbed the front of the hoodie and slammed Julian against the wall of the hallway.
"What did you do?" Silas hissed.
Julian didn't fight back. He laughed. It was a wet, desperate sound. "I did what you taught me, Silas. I found the leverage. I told the feds that the payment you made to the Oakhaven tax office was a transfer of stolen capital. They froze it an hour ago. The auction is back on. By the time you get out of this city, that orchard will be a golf course."
"I'll kill you," Silas said. His grip tightened.
"Then you'll definitely go to jail," Julian said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single sheet of paper. "I'm here to offer you a way out. One last deal. Sign the Globex merger papers. Give me the rights to the Alpha Code. If you do, I'll tell the feds the Oakhaven payment was a legitimate consulting fee I authorized. The freeze melts. The orchard stays hers. You walk away with nothing, but she keeps the trees."
Silas looked at the paper. This was the trap. Julian didn't want the company. He wanted the code so he could sell it to the highest bidder and vanish before the trial started. He was using June as a human shield.
"How do I know you'll follow through?" Silas asked.
"You don't," Julian said. "But the clock is ticking. You have seven hours until the gavel falls in Georgia. You can't get a flight. The trains are down because of the storm. You're stuck here with me, Silas. Choose."
Silas let go of Julian. He took the paper. He looked at the lines where his life's work would be signed away. He thought about the black spots on the apples. He thought about the smell of the rain in the grove.
"I need a pen," Silas said.
The morning in Oakhaven was gray and silent. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a world of thick, clinging mist. June stood in front of the county courthouse. It was a small brick building that felt like a fortress.
A small crowd had gathered. These were neighbors. These were people who had known her father. They looked at her with pity. No one spoke. The air was heavy with the scent of wet pavement and failure.
The sheriff walked out onto the steps. He looked at June. He didn't want to be there. He held a small wooden mallet.
"Property case 402," the sheriff announced. His voice was flat. "The Ashby Orchard. Total debt including interest and penalties: three hundred and twelve thousand dollars. Do I have an opening bid?"
"Five thousand," a voice called out.
June turned. It was the man in the suit from the night before. He stood at the back of the crowd, looking at his gold watch.
"Ten thousand," Miller said. He stepped forward. He looked at June. It was all he had.
"Fifty thousand," the man in the suit said. He didn't even look up.
June felt the world tilting. It was a game. A cruel, rigged game. She looked down the road, hoping to see a black SUV. She hoped for a miracle. She hoped for a man who had promised to return. The road was empty.
"Going once," the sheriff said.
"Fifty-five thousand," Miller shouted.
"One hundred thousand," the man in the suit countered.
The crowd gasped. No one in Oakhaven had that kind of money. The man was a shark in a small pond. He was bidding with Julian's frozen funds, or perhaps with a line of credit Silas didn't know about.
"Going twice," the sheriff said. He raised the mallet.
June closed her eyes. She thought about the north grove. She thought about the secret letter Bea had hidden in the barn. She realized that the orchard was more than just land. It was the only thing that kept her connected to the people she loved. And it was being taken by a man who didn't know the difference between a Honeycrisp and a stone.
"One hundred and ten thousand," Miller said. His voice was shaking.
The man in the suit sighed. "Three hundred and twelve thousand. The full debt. Let's finish this."
The sheriff looked at June. He looked at Miller. He hesitated. He didn't want to drop the hammer. But the law was a machine. It didn't have a heart.
"Three hundred and twelve thousand," the sheriff repeated. "Going once. Going twice."
The mallet began to fall.
A loud, piercing whistle echoed through the square. A dusty, mud-caked truck roared into the plaza. It wasn't Silas's car. It was an old, beat-up farm truck from two counties over.
The door flew open. Silas jumped out. He wasn't wearing a suit. He was wearing the same shirt he had worn to pick apples. He was covered in sweat and grease. He looked like he had run all the way from New York.
"Stop!" Silas shouted. He was gasping for air. He held a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.
The man in the suit turned. His eyes went wide. "You can't be here. The feds."
"The feds are busy arresting Julian Thorne," Silas said. He walked up the steps to the sheriff. He handed him the paper. "This is a court order. The freeze has been lifted. The debt was settled at six AM this morning by a direct wire transfer from a private trust."
The sheriff took the paper. He read it. A slow smile spread across his face. He looked at the man in the suit. "I think you're in the wrong town, son. The debt is cleared. The auction is cancelled."
The crowd erupted into cheers. Miller let out a breath and sat down on the steps. June didn't cheer. She didn't move. She watched Silas. He was leaning against the railing, trying to catch his breath. He looked broken. He looked like he had lost everything.
"How?" June asked. she walked up the steps. she stood in front of him.
"I signed the code away," Silas said. His voice was a rasp. "I gave Julian what he wanted. He thought he could use it to flee the country. But I had already triggered a logic bomb in the software. The moment he tried to transfer the rights to a third party, the code deleted itself. It's gone, June. Vane-Corp is gone. The merger is gone. I have nothing left but a small house in the woods and a very angry board of directors."
June looked at him. She saw the truth in his eyes. He hadn't used her as a shield. He had used his entire life as a shield for her.
"You're a fool," June said.
"I know," Silas said.
She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt. She pulled him toward her and kissed him. It wasn't a soft, romantic kiss. It was hard and desperate. It tasted like rain and salt and relief.
The crowd stayed quiet. Even the man in the suit stayed still. In the middle of the small town square, the billionaire and the farmer finally found a common language.
But as Silas held her, he saw a black car pull up at the edge of the square. It wasn't the feds. It was a car he recognized from his time in the city. The windows were tinted. The engine was idling.
He knew the war wasn't over. Julian was gone, but the power he had tried to steal was still out there. Silas had destroyed the code, but he hadn't destroyed the people who wanted it.
"We need to go," Silas whispered into June's hair.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because the people I just bankrupted are not going to send me a thank you card," Silas said.
He looked at the black car. The door opened. A man stepped out. He wasn't an investigator. He was a professional. He looked at Silas and tapped his watch.
The harvest was over. The debt was paid. But the long game had just entered a much more dangerous phase.