Page 83 of Tessa and Nash

“Yes.”

“And your proposal says no construction near the creek.”

“Yes,” he says quickly. “I set it back. I was careful.”

I believe him. Annoyingly.

That’s what makes the knot in my chest tighten.

Because if Nash was careful and this still exploded, then this is bigger than a setback line and a zoning meeting.

This is history.

Nash watches me, jaw tight. “So do you know about it?”

My mouth goes dry.

Because I do know the property.

Not intimately. Not in the way Thomas does. Not in the way Grandma’s stories have hinted at, always stopping short of names and dates. But I know it exists. I know it’s on the outskirts of town like a piece of the family that was cut away and left to weather.

“I know of it,” I say carefully.

Nash’s gaze narrows. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only honest one,” I snap, then immediately clamp down on the edge in my words because the last thing I need is my uncle hearing tone through the walls.

Nash’s mouth tightens. “Tessa. If your uncle is filing concerns and my dad’s notes say check access rights and the mayor is talking about boundaries like they’re disputed… what is this?”

I stare at the papers again, my mind flipping back to Founders’ Day. Virgil Tucker’s warning. Dottie’s speech about hunger and pride and choices you don’t talk about later.

And suddenly, my uncle’s obsession with the McCoys doesn’t look like paranoia.

It looks like preparation.

“I don’t know,” I admit, and the words taste of failure.

Nash’s eyes flash. “That’s terrifying.”

“It is,” I agree.

He exhales a hard breath, then looks past me to the door. “Can we go inside? It’s freezing.”

“No,” I say immediately.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Why are you allergic to warmth?”

“I’m allergic to my uncle,” I hiss.

Like he’s been summoned by the word, the floorboard inside the house creaks. A single, quiet complaint.

I freeze.

So does Nash.

We both stare at the door because it might open and reveal Thomas with his calm smile and his knives hidden behind paperwork.

Nothing happens, but my heart keeps sprinting anyway.