Noah
Friday came faster than I wanted it to, my father's office feeling colder than usual as I stepped inside, already bracing myself for whatever was waiting.
He didn't bother with pleasantries this time, gesturing toward the chair across from his desk without even looking up from the documents spread out in front of him. "Sit."
I sat, the familiar tension settling into my shoulders as I waited for him to speak.
"I've had legal draw up the final terms," he said, finally glancing up, sliding a thick folder across the desk toward me. "The offer to the Sweet Crumbs owner expires in two weeks. After that, we move forward with alternative measures."
"Alternative measures," I repeated flatly, though I already knew exactly what that meant. Eminent domain arguments. Legal pressure. Slow, gri
