Chapter 3 - The Names That Wouldn't Stay Buried
The implication hung in the freezing air between them like a physical weight. Claire looked past Arthur’s shoulder toward the rows of boarded-up windows lining Maple Street. The paint was peeling, the yards were overgrown with dead winter grass, and every single front door had been marked with a red spray-painted X. She knew those families. She had shared coffee with the elderly couple in number forty-two; she had helped their grandchildren register for school just blocks away before the zoning notices appeared overnight.
"They didn't relocate," Claire said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to maintain a stoic exterior. "You didn't move them to public housing, did you, Arthur? You cleared the land before the buyout checks cleared."
"The Board does what is necessary to protect the economic viability of the sector," Arthur replied, his tone chillingly administrative. He kept his hand extended, palm up, waiting for her to surrender the wooden board. "Progress requires clearance, Claire. You wrote the feasibility studies yourself. You proved that keeping these decaying structures standing would bankrupt the entire municipal trust within two fiscal quarters."
"I proved that repairs were cheaper than demolition," Claire shot back, taking a half-step backward toward the doorway, where the two bodyguards blocked any hope of retreat. "I proved that the soil contamination could be contained with a proper filtration grid. The Board chose demolition because the land underneath these homes is sitting on a trillion-dollar lithium deposit."
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. The pretense of polite corporate negotiation vanished, replaced by the hard edge of corporate enforcement. He dropped his hand, letting it rest casually near his briefcase, where a secondary latch remained unsecured.
"You’re being remarkably short-sighted, Claire," Arthur said, lowering his voice so the bodyguards wouldn't overhear. "The lithium won't just save the city; it funds the national energy grid transition. Do you honestly think a dozen sentimental homeowners are going to stand in the way of national security? Give me the clipboard. We can protect your pension, your reputation, and your safety. If you walk away with those papers right now, you are committing professional suicide."
Claire looked down at the wooden clipboard. Held firmly against her chest, the papers trapped beneath the heavy metal clip contained something far more dangerous than lithium surveys. It was the signed affidavit from the former lead engineer of the project, detailing how the soil tests were intentionally falsified to force the eminent domain seizures.
"My reputation died the day I let you people hire me," Claire whispered. She unlatched the top corner of the clipboard, her fingers slipping underneath the heavy stack of documents to pull out a single, folded sheet of lined paper.
May you like
Arthur lunged forward to grab the board, but Claire stepped sideways, spinning past the frame of the front door into the darkened interior of the abandoned house. The bodyguards reacted instantly, surging up the steps with heavy, synchronized boots, but the heavy oak door slammed shut in their faces just as Arthur’s hand caught the edge of the brass handle.
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