Chapter 7
The heavy metal exit door slammed shut behind them with a muffled clang as Maya and Leo emerged into the cool autumn air of the courthouse parking lot. The sun had completely set, leaving the streets illuminated only by the harsh orange glow of sodium-vapor streetlights. Maya took a deep, shuddering breath, filling her lungs with fresh air to clear the smell of damp concrete and ancient paper from her system.
"That was entirely too close," Maya whispered, clutching the strap of her canvas bag as they walked quickly toward Leo's mountain bike parked by the iron railing.
Leo unlocked the chain, wrapping it securely around his crossbar before swinging his leg over the saddle. "We got what we needed, though. We know the ledger is real, and we know your grandfather's signature is on the original disposal permits. The question is what we do with that information now that the administration knows people are looking."
Maya stopped beside him, her black pants brushing against the cold metal of the bicycle frame. She looked back at the towering limestone facade of the courthouse, noticing a single sliver of light illuminating a second-floor office window. The silhouette of a man standing behind the glass blinds was unmistakable—her uncle, municipal treasurer Robert Vance, was watching them from above.
"He saw us," Maya said softly, her voice devoid of panic, replaced by a cold, sobering realization. "My uncle didn't just leave for the evening. He was in the building the entire time."
Leo followed her gaze up to the illuminated window. His expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he processed the implications. "If he knows we were in the archives, he knows we were looking for the nineteen-ninety-four records. That means our houses aren't safe, and whatever digital backups we make need to be uploaded to an off-site server immediately."
"My laptop is at the public library," Maya said, her mind racing through logistical options. "The Wi-Fi network there routes through an independent regional provider that isn't connected to the municipal school board's intranet. If we digitize the documents tonight, we can create a permanent public mirror before they realize the physical ledgers are being targeted."
"Let's move," Leo said, pushing off the pavement with one foot as he started rolling down the alleyway.
They pedaled through the quiet streets of Oakridge under the cover of darkness, avoiding the main thoroughfares where police cruisers frequently patrolled. The wind picked up, carrying the dry scent of falling leaves and the distant metallic tang of industrial runoff from the river basin. Maya rode slightly behind Leo, her thoughts revolving around the betrayal of her family name. Every story she had been told growing up about her grandfather's civic dedication was a carefully constructed myth designed to mask the quiet poisoning of an entire community.
When they reached the public library downtown, the building was dark except for the security lamps glowing near the entrance. Fortunately, the exterior Wi-Fi relay box mounted on the brick exterior wall remained active twenty-four hours a day for local students needing late-night internet access.
May you like
Leo leaned his bike against the brick wall, pulling the protective plastic sleeve containing the vintage water board papers out from beneath his dark blue hoodie. His hands were steady as he handed the documents over to Maya.
"Scanner's in my bag," Maya said, unzipping her canvas tote to reveal a portable, battery-operated document scanner she used for her advanced photography projects. "Let's do this quickly."
