The blue survey lines of the proposed commercial cabins ran directly along my eastern property line.

Right beside the boundary, marked in dotted red ink, were the planned locations for three large septic absorption fields.

They were designed to service a twelve-unit commercial rental development.

My gaze moved to the blue thread of the creek that wound through the lower portion of my acreage.

The proposed septic fields were situated less than fifty feet from the water’s edge.

I knew the local environmental zoning ordinances by heart.

Under the Mountain Ridge Protection Act, any commercial waste system had to be set back at least two hundred feet from any protected trout stream.

The creek running through Cedar Hollow was a documented tributary of the French Broad River.

Trevor had deliberately omitted the stream from his filed survey maps to secure preliminary approval.

He was planning to build an illegal commercial sewer system right above my water supply.

I let out a slow, cold breath that fogged in the dark mountain air.

The headlights of my mother’s car had disappeared down the road, leaving the ridge in total darkness.