Betrayed, I Rise novel · Chapter 11 of 32

Chapter 11: Junkyard

I watched the live until my father's glass came down.

Then I closed the laptop and sat in the dark kitchen.

Troy didn't ask. He'd heard it.

In the morning there was a flyer taped next to Vincent's notice on the office door.

TOWN MEETING. SALT CREEK COMMUNITY HALL. FRIDAY 6 P.M. PRESENTATION OF THE WEXFORD SALT CREEK RESORT.

"He's coming himself?" I said.

"He's coming himself," Troy said. "With cookies, probably."

There were cookies.

The community hall was a cinder-block building next to the volunteer fire station, with a flag out front and folding chairs set up in rows.

Every chair was full by six.

Shrimpers in white rubber boots. Women from the diner. Old men in fishing caps.

The whole Hatcher crew in a row near the back, arms crossed, still in their work shirts.

A table at the front had a tray of cookies with blue-and-gold Wexford frosting.

Vincent stood beside a projector screen in a pale linen suit.

Skylar sat in the front row in a sundress, filming.

She wasn't wearing the coat. It was hanging over the back of her chair.

Vincent saw me come in with Troy.

He grinned and gave me a little wave.

"Evening, Salt Creek," he said. "I'm Vincent Benedetti, Vice President of Development for Wexford Hotels."

He wasn't. Not until July.

Nobody here knew that.

The lights went down.

The first slide came up.

It was a photo of the marsh at dawn. Silver water. Tall gold grass. A single heron lifting off, its wings wide.

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