Page 109 of Holding Ground

I knew he’d be here tonight, especially after I’d dodged him for three straight days. He’s not the type of man who lets things go without answers and resolutions. His allowing Kate back in Baylor’s life is proof of that.

But it was necessary. I needed to get everything together to prove my case, to get it all out there, and let the chips fall where they may.

After talking to my mom, I gave it a lot of thought and decided that if I told Elliott everything before tonight, he would probably stay by my side and support me. But I need to do this as me. Not as Elliott’s person, not as the woman the town absorbed as one of their own, but as Emelia Greene, the woman who helped create this mess and now has to unmake it.

Only then will I be able to answer the question Elliott asked me—will I stay?

And I hope by the end of this, he’ll still want me to.

My hands shake, so I press them flat against the podium. “Two months ago, I stood here and presented a development proposal for Echo Lake’s north shore. I told you that it would bring jobs, new residents, and economic growth. I told you that nothing would move forward without the consent of the council.” I take a calming breath. “Some of that was true, and some of it was a lie. Not a lie I knowingly told you, but one that I helped deliver, and I take responsibility for that.”

The room is silent. Silence that feels weighted when you have this many people in one space and no one is moving at all.

Opening the folder, my hands are still shaking, but I don’t bother to try to hide it now. “I’ve discovered that the developer I work for has already acquired several properties in Echo Lake over the past several years, all under different LLCs. After doing some digging, I found out that these LLCs were registered within months of each other, filed by the same attorney.”

I hold up the parcel map. “I’ve marked the town-owned property in yellow, and the three parcels under the suspect LLCs in green. The proposal I showed you was the visible portion of a much larger map, one that would fundamentally reshape the lakefront and turn Echo Lake into a destination resort community that serves tourists, not residents.”

I set the map back down in my folder. “When I was back in Boston this past weekend, I did some further digging and uncovered that the previous owner of the town parcel was in active negotiations to sell it to the developer I work for when she passed away. At that point, she had already put in her will that she was donating it to the town and hadn’t changed it.”

This little tidbit took me a while to uncover, and I had to go back and look through loads of old files, but I found it.

The energy in the room shifts, and not in my favor.

“I had no knowledge of the shell company acquisitions, and I was never shown the expanded site plan. The financial projections I was given were based on the full footprint of the development, and I didn’t catch the discrepancy until I started pulling public records on my own. I should’ve caught it sooner, and I should’ve asked harder questions earlier, and I didn’t. For that, I’m sorry.”

Old man Gilroy is the first to get up and speak, from the sixth row. “You’ve been here two months. Coming to our meetings and giving us that sweet smile. And now you want us to believe you didn’t know?”

I inhale at his hard tone. “I can understand why you’d question that.”

This is what I expected, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“I’m not questioning it. I’m saying it. You knew. You had to know. You work for these people. You expect us to believe that you were, what? Just too stupid to see it?”

My face heats, but I manage to keep the shaking out of my voice. “No. I expect you to be angry. I’m angry too.”

“You’re angry?” A woman in the second row stands, Greta Goldstein. “That’s rich. You came here to sell us a bill of goods, and now that you’re about to get caught, you want to play whistleblower?”

“I didn’t get caught. I’m standing here voluntarily.” I want so badly to look toward Elliott and see what he thinks of all this, but I don’t. I need to get through all of this first before I deal with him.

“Because you knew it was gonna come out anyway,” old man Gilroy says. “There were already rumors flying that you’d been pulling files down at the county clerk. Someone would’ve figured it out. This is just damage control. You’re only doing this to protect yourself.”

I grip either side of the podium, knuckles whitening. “I resigned from my position this weekend. I have nothing left to protect.”

“Except the man whose property you’ve been living on,” someone calls from the back of the room.

“Yeah, pretty convenient, don’t you think?” Greta says. “You get cozy with Elliott Mercer while you’re probably drawing a target on his camp.”

The room buzzes. Side conversations are an underlying murmur throughout the space. I’m the face of everything these people are afraid of.

“Listen,” old man Gilroy says, stepping out into the aisle. “I don’t know what your angle is, but if you think you can come to this town and lie to us for two months⁠—”

“She didn’t lie to you.” The voice is low, clear, and certain.

Elliott stands.

My gaze shoots to him, and our eyes meet. I can’t help but feel a sense of relief when I don’t find animosity in those pools of deep blue.

“She didn’t lie to you.” He turns to address the room. “I was the first person in town to push back on her, and two months ago, I asked her questions in this same room that she couldn’t answer. And I went home that night thinking she was the enemy.” His gaze falls back to me. “And I was wrong.”