By dawn, Hollow Creek no longer looked like itself. Patrol cars lined the main road. Yellow tape crossed the entrance to the mill district. Reporters stood behind the barriers, microphones raised, breath fogging in the cold.
Emily watched from the edge of the square. Her coat was buttoned to the throat, the folder of documents pressed against her side. Grace stood beside her, camera lowered for once.
“They moved fast,” Grace said.
“They were ready,” Emily said.
“You think Collins pulled the trigger?”
“He doesn’t get his hands dirty. Someone else did.”
A loudspeaker cracked above the noise. “Please remain clear of the restricted area. This site is under federal review.”
Emily almost laughed. “Federal? That’s new.”
“Means he’s scared,” Grace said.
Across the tape, Collins appeared. He wore his usual dark suit, shoes clean despite the mud. He waved to the cameras like a man greeting friends at a funeral.
“Stay calm,” Grace whispered. “We film first, speak second.”
Emily nodded.
Collins began his statement. “The Riverside Redevelopment Project has been temporarily suspended pending investigation. Certain irregularities have come to our attention—”
“Lies,” Emily muttered.
Grace whispered, “Patience.”
Collins continued. “—and we are cooperating fully with city and state authorities to ensure transparency.”
Emily stepped forward until her boots touched the tape.
“Transparency?” she shouted.
Heads turned. Cameras swung toward her.
Collins blinked. “Ms. Rhodes. I didn’t see you there.”
“Apparently, you didn’t see my father’s contract either.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“You will.”
Grace started filming.
Emily held up the papers. “These agreements show a third party signing under both your name and my father’s. You called it redevelopment, but these say acquisition. And oversight by someone you never mentioned.”
Collins’ smile didn’t move. “You’ve misunderstood the documents.”
“I read them. My father didn’t sign away this town.”
“Your father was a visionary. He knew progress required compromise.”
“He knew integrity required proof.”
The murmurs around them grew louder.
One reporter shouted, “Are you confirming Ms. Rhodes’ claims?”
Collins raised his hands. “No comment at this time.”
Grace whispered, “He’s slipping.”
“Keep recording,” Emily said.
A man in a red badge jacket stepped from the crowd, whispering something to Collins. His face was the same one from the mill.
Emily saw him and froze. “That’s him.”
Grace zoomed in. “Got him.”
Collins turned away, speaking low. The man nodded and vanished between the vehicles.
Emily said, “He was at the mill last night.”
Collins ignored her. “We have nothing further—this conference is over.”
He turned to leave, but the reporters shouted questions. Grace’s camera caught every word.
Emily shouted, “You’re hiding behind contracts you don’t understand!”
He paused just long enough to look back. “And you’re chasing ghosts.”
He walked away, escorted by security.
The crowd broke into noise.
Grace lowered the camera. “That went well.”
Emily’s voice shook. “He’s lying straight into the lens.”
“Good. Now we have him on record doing it.”
A patrol officer approached. “Ma’am, you’ll need to clear the area.”
“We’re leaving,” Grace said.
They stepped back into the fog that still lingered over the square.
From somewhere behind them came a soft metallic click. Emily turned. A black sedan idled across the street, window down just enough to show the glint of a lens.
Grace whispered, “He’s watching.”
“Let him,” Emily said. “It means he’s worried.”
They started walking toward the old café, where Liam had said to meet.
The café had reopened early for the reporters. The smell of burnt espresso hung in the air. Emily and Grace slipped through the back door where Liam waited by the counter. His hair was damp, his jacket streaked with mud.
“You saw it,” he said.
“I saw everything,” Emily said. “He lied to everyone’s face.”
“Good,” Liam said. “Now he has to explain why.”
Grace set her camera on the table. “We caught the man from last night. Same red badge.”
Liam’s jaw tightened. “I knew he wasn’t local.”
“He’s more than that,” Emily said. “He’s connected to the contracts. Collins listened to him.”
Liam rubbed his forehead. “So what’s the plan?”
“Release everything,” Grace said. “Footage, documents, the letter.”
“They’ll shut it down,” Liam said. “They’ll say it’s fake.”
“Then we show them why it isn’t.”
He looked at Emily. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Sit down before you fall down.”
She sat, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d held.
Outside, the sound of sirens faded down the road.
Grace checked her phone. “They’ve started blocking signals near the mill.”
Emily frowned. “Then we send it before they finish.”
“How?” Liam asked.
“We use the library router,” Grace said. “Old, slow, but open.”
“Won’t they trace it?”
“They’ll try.”
Emily smiled. “Good. Let them chase shadows for once.”
Grace packed the camera and hard drive into her bag. “Fifteen minutes.”
Liam nodded. “I’ll cover you both. The library’s still open for the reporters.”
Emily stood. “We go together.”
They stepped out into the fog again. The streets were half empty, people standing in clusters, whispering. Posters with Collins’s face hung crooked on lampposts. The ink ran in streaks from the night rain.
The library sat on the far end of Main Street, its lights yellow behind frosted glass. Grace pushed the door open. Inside smelled of paper and damp carpet.
They moved to the computer room. Grace connected her drive and began uploading. Progress crawled—1%, 2%, 3%.
Liam stood by the window watching the square. “They’ll come here.”
“I know,” Emily said.
Grace muttered, “Then let’s make it worth it.”
At 8%, the screen flickered. A red message appeared—*Connection Interrupted.*
“No,” Grace hissed.
Emily stepped closer. “Try again.”
She did. The same message.
Liam cursed softly. “They cut the line.”
Emily looked around. “Wi-Fi’s still blinking.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “Then it’s not the network. Someone’s inside.”
A shadow crossed the doorway.
“Close the door,” Liam said.
It slammed shut before he reached it.
The man with the red badge stepped into the room.
“You shouldn’t have come back,” he said.
“Too late,” Emily said.
He looked at the computer. “Delete everything.”
“Not a chance.”
He moved toward Grace. Liam stepped in front of her. “Touch her and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?”
The man smiled, calm as stone. “You think you’re the first to try this? You think the truth saves anyone?”
“It saves her,” Emily said.
He turned his gaze to her. “You sound like your father.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Liam reached for the nearest chair and swung. The man ducked; the chair splintered against the wall. Grace hit *Enter* again. The screen blinked, then showed a new message—*Backup Upload Initiated.*
The man saw it. “You don’t know who you’re playing with.”
Grace said, “We do now.”
He lunged. Emily grabbed the power cord and yanked it free. Sparks flashed. The lights died.
In the dark, someone cursed.
Grace whispered, “Keep recording.”
The camera’s small red light blinked once, steady.
Liam’s voice: “Emily, get down!”
A crash. Glass shattered. Then footsteps retreating.
When the emergency lights came on, the man was gone. The upload bar on the screen glowed—*98%... 99%... Complete.*
Grace laughed weakly. “We did it.”
Emily stared at the screen. “For now.”
Liam picked up the broken chair. “We have to leave before they lock the building.”
Grace pulled the drive. “It’s in the cloud now. Anyone who wants it can find it.”
Emily looked at the window. Reporters were already running toward the library.
“He’s going to deny everything.”
“Let him,” Liam said. “It’s his turn to chase ghosts.”
They left through the back, blending into the morning crowd as the sirens started again.
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