The Closed-Door Council
The fourth-floor hearing room was quiet, insulated from the street noise by double-paned mahogany windows.
Around the semicircular mahogany table sat the five members of the Urban Development Board. At the center podium stood Richard Vance, looking immaculate once again in a tailored navy suit. His expression was one of polished confidence, projecting the image of a visionary civic leader.
"—and as you can see from our supplementary filings," Richard was saying smoothly, "the structural integrity reports exceed all municipal standards. We are prepared to accept the first two hundred families into Block C by the end of next week, fulfilling our commitment to affordable coastal housing."
The council president, a silver-haired man named Henderson, nodded with satisfaction. "Excellent work, Mr. Vance. The city appreciates your family's continued investment in—"
The heavy double doors at the back of the chamber swung open with a resounding boom.
Every head in the room turned. Helena walked down the central aisle with steady, deliberate steps, Sarah walking directly behind her carrying a portable digital projector.
May you like
"Council President Henderson," Helena announced, her voice clear and carrying across the vaulted room. "Before this board votes to approve the occupancy permits for Harbor View, you have a legal and moral obligation to review the primary seismic telemetry data from Pier 9."
Richard’s face tightened, the color draining from his cheeks before a flash of venomous anger replaced it. "Security! This is an executive session. Remove these trespassers immediately!"
