He turned my mother around and began guiding her toward the exit.

I watched them walk away, their shadows stretching across the polished floor.

I ran down the courthouse steps into the humid afternoon air of Asheville.

The sky was turning a bruised purple, heavy with the threat of a summer storm.

I got into my old Subaru and started the engine.

My mind was spinning as I navigated the winding roads up toward Cedar Hollow.

*We had to help them,* my mother had said.

*We backed them up.*

My parents lived in a quiet, brick ranch house in the suburbs of North Asheville.

They lived on a fixed pension and my father’s social security.

They didn’t have the cash to fund Trevor’s ambitious land-buying spree.

Unless they had signed something.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter as the road began to climb into the pine trees.

The air grew cooler, smelling of damp earth and pine needles.

I thought about the way Trevor had smiled in the elevator.

It wasn’t just a smug smile; it was the smile of a man who thought he had already won.