Page 39 of Vargan

The diner. The farm. My parents' legacy. Three generations of my family's work. Gone with a signature.

"Is that it?" I ask, voice surprisingly steady. "Nothing else? You disappear, and this goes away. He walks free."

"Show me what else you think I want," Royce sneers, taking a step toward me. "I bet that green freak has been enjoying—"

"Enough!" Victor snaps. "One more word and you're out of the deal entirely."

Royce falls silent, but his eyes promise retribution.

Victor opens a drawer, removing a document. "I've taken the liberty of drafting a preliminary agreement. We'll need to formalize it with lawyers and witnesses, of course, but this will do for now."

He slides the paper across the desk. I force myself to pick it up, to read the words that sign away everything I've fought for. The terms are exactly as he stated—the diner, the farm, the house, all transferred to Hargrove Development Corp. for a nominal sum of one-hundred thousand dollars.

"This is less than your last offer," I say, more observation than accusation.

Victor shrugs. "You're not in a position to negotiate. Besides, your... friend's freedom seems payment enough."

I stare at the contract, thinking of my father's dream, my mother's garden, Willie. Then I think of Vargan in a cell, waiting for men to come and take him to his death.

"I'll need a pen," I say quietly.

Victor's smile is victory incarnate as he passes me a heavy fountain pen. I sign my name on the line, the ink bleeding slightly into the paper like my heart is bleeding into my chest.

"Excellent," Victor says, taking back the document. "Now, I believe you should call your brother. Tell him you've decided to sell, that you'll be leaving Shadow Ridge. Make it convincing."

My hand tightens around the pen. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"It is now," he says mildly. "You're agreeing to publicly acknowledge this as your idea, remember? That includes convincing your brother you came to this arrangement in your own power."

I set the pen down carefully, afraid that if I hold it any longer, I'll try to stab Victor with it. "Make your call first," I say. "Get Vargan released. Then I'll make any announcement you want."

Victor studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Fair enough."

He picks up his phone, dialing a number from memory. "Dawson? It's Hargrove. About that orc you're holding... Yes. Yes, release him. No paperwork. I've decided not to press charges." A pause. "Yes, I understand New York is en route. That's no longer your concern. By morning, he'll be long gone." Another pause. "I'll take full responsibility. Just do it." He hangs up, smiling thinly at me. "Satisfied?"

"How long until he's free?"

"Dawson is heading to the jail now. Twenty minutes, perhaps." Victor leans forward. "Which means you have twenty minutes to call your brother and tell him the good news."

I take out my phone, my hand shaking slightly. Willie answers on the first ring.

"Savvy? Are you okay? Did you get Vargan out?"

"Willie," I say, aware of Victor and Royce watching me intently. "I've made a decision. I'm selling the diner and the farm to Victor. We're going to leave Shadow Ridge, start fresh somewhere else."

Silence, then: "What? No! Savvy, you can't—"

"It's for the best," I continue, my voice surprisingly steady. "We've been fighting too long. It's time to let go."

"This isn't you talking," Willie says, his voice cracking. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing," I assure him quickly. "This is my choice. I'll explain everything later. I need you to pack some things—just essentials. We'll be leaving tonight."

I hope he understands what I'm not saying—that we need to be ready to run, that nothing will be the same after tonight.

"Savvy—"

"I love you," I say, cutting him off. "Trust me, okay? Just this once, trust that I know what I'm doing."

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