“The bank just called,” Denise cried out, her voice closer to the phone now. “They’re freezing the accounts, Kelsey. Everything we put into the development fund is gone.”

I watched Kelsey’s face drain of color under the dome light of the cabin.

“What do you mean gone?” Kelsey whispered. “Trevor said the construction permits were already approved.”

“There are no permits,” Harold said. “The development company doesn’t have the funding. It’s a shell.”

The silence inside the car was louder than the thunder rolling over the ridge.

I took a step closer to the open door, gripping the cold metal frame to steady myself.

“Where is Trevor now?” I asked.

There was a long pause on the line, filled only by the static of the poor mountain reception.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Harold said, directing his words to me now. “Meredith, please tell me you’re listening.”

“I’m listening, Dad,” I said.

“We need the land,” he said, his tone shifting from shock to a desperate, familiar demand. “The Cedar Hollow deed is the only asset we have left that isn’t tied to Trevor’s name.”