She nodded, a tear finally escaping and running down her wrinkled cheek.

“It was the only way to secure the funding, Meredith,” Trevor said, his tone entirely casual. “It’s standard practice in commercial real estate.”

“You put my parents’ home up as collateral for your gamble?” I turned on him, my hands curling into fists.

“It’s not a gamble,” Trevor said, stepping closer. “It’s a guaranteed return, once we get the access cleared.”

“They will lose everything if you default,” I said.

“I’m not going to default,” he said, though his eyes darted toward the flatbed truck behind him.

The driver of the truck was leaning against the cab, smoking a cigarette and watching us.

“You’ve already missed the first projection deadline, Trevor,” I said. “The interest on those hard-money loans is predatory.”

“That’s why we need to move fast,” Trevor said, his voice dropping to a low, urgent pitch.

He flipped a page on his clipboard, revealing a brightly colored site map.

I caught sight of the bold red lines outlining the proposed resort footprint.

The map showed a series of luxury cabins clustered tightly along the ridge.