The next day, Meredith came over pretending to bring coffee. She took a tense work call in my hallway and left in a rush.
On the credenza, she forgot a blue folder.
I stared at it for ten minutes before opening it.
Inside were confidential property comparisons printed on Whitaker & Cole stationery, development projections, and notes about a secret multi-million-dollar Riverside District Revitalization Plan.
Once announced, property values on my exact block were expected to skyrocket by more than two hundred percent.
Everything became clear.
Meredith wasn’t just greedy. She was using privileged corporate information to pressure me into selling my home before the value exploded.
My hands shook as I went upstairs, opened my nightstand, and pulled out Grandma Rose’s sealed envelope.
Inside was a letter, a black business card for Grant Whitaker, and a copy of an old canceled promissory note.
Grandma’s letter explained that years ago, before Whitaker & Cole became powerful, Grant Whitaker had been a desperate young developer on the edge of losing everything. Banks had turned him away. Grandma Rose had not. She loaned him the money that saved his first project.