Chapter 22

"Bylaws require forty-eight hours' written notice before any vote affecting an active vendor contract." Her words came fast, rehearsed in a way that made Nancy's stomach twist. "This wasn't on the published agenda. Procedurally, we can't vote tonight."A murmur rolled through the folding chairs, confusion turning to frustration."That's absurd," James said. "The evidence is right in front of you.""It's the bylaws," Pearl said, not quite meeting his eyes. "I don't make the rules. I just have to follow them."The chair looked down at his own copy of the association bylaws, flipping pages he clearly hadn't expected to need. "She's technically correct. We'd need to reschedule.""Reschedule to when?" Nancy's voice cracked with disbelief."I'll circulate a new date," Pearl said, already gathering her papers, refusing to look at anyone directly. "Within the required window."The room deflated all at once, the energy that had built through Nancy's evidence draining out like water through a cracked pipe. Neighbors exchanged uneasy glances; a few got up and left without a word, the way people do when a fight they'd started to believe in suddenly stalls out.Venus, still seated at the back, hadn't moved. She hadn't needed to. Whatever call had been made to delay this vote, it hadn't come from her lips; it had come from somewhere with enough weight to bend a room in her favor without her saying a single word.Nancy and James walked out of the clubhouse into the cold night air, the folder of evidence suddenly feeling lighter than it should have: all that work stalled by four sentences from a woman too afraid to look them in the eye.The blow landed harder the next morning. A notice arrived by certified mail, official county seal stamped across the top: the lien against the Whitford property had been fast-tracked through processing—approved, filed, and moving straight to foreclosure. A locksmith was scheduled to arrive within forty-eight hours to change the locks, pending final confirmation.Nancy read it twice, her hands cold. "Forty-eight hours," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "They're taking the house in forty-eight hours."James's phone buzzed before he could respond. He read the message, and his face went still in that particular way she'd come to dread.

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