5. Atlas
ATLAS
The following day, Kai and I are back in the back room again, surrounded by wall-to-wall shelves of books that now keep more of my secrets.
The space feels different from when I first walked in—charged, intimate in a way it wasn’t before yesterday.
Before his mouth was on me. Before my back was against these same shelves, books digging into my spine while he took me apart with his hands and tongue.
I’m hyperaware of every time our hands brush.
Every time he leans close, I remember the weight of him pressed against me, the taste of him, the sound he made when he came.
His eyes meet mine, and I know he’s thinking about it too.
The heat in his gaze tells me he remembers every single second—the way I gasped his name, the way my fingers gripped his shoulders, the way we couldn’t get enough of each other.
I wonder if I can make it happen again. If I could lean over, kiss him, push him back against those shelves the way he pushed me. My heart races at the thought, anticipation building in my chest.
But I don’t want only what happened yesterday. I want more. And more can’t happen in the small room of a public building.
Which means I’m going to have to be patient and keep working. I grab another group of files and open the first one.
The name that changed my life—that ruined it—appears on a file I find while organizing the archive. My hands still as if the paper could burn my skin, but all I feel is cold.
Kai doesn’t notice. He keeps chatting away, queuing up another recording, his voice warm and animated. “So, how did your parents handle you staying in town longer?” he asks, glancing over at me. “Did you tell them the truth?”
I pull out the document dated six months ago, when Kai had barely arrived in Pine Ridge to do his work.
“What’s this?” I ask, pointing to a column labeled “Potential Sponsors.”
Kai leans over to look. I can see the tension in his shoulders immediately. “HelixGen Corp,” he reads under his breath.
He scrolls through the document, his jaw tightening. “I got an email from them early on. Before I really settled into the work here. They said they were interested in ‘community engagement initiatives’ and wanted to discuss ‘partnership opportunities.’”
“What did you tell them?”
“I ignored them. I didn’t like the tone of the email. It felt extractive—like they wanted to use the project as a means to an end, not support it for its own sake.”
I sit back in my chair, processing this. “That’s weird, right? A major tech company interested in a small-town oral history project?”
“Very weird.”
Kai goes back to the recording, but my head is buzzing like I have a swarm of bees inside it.
I pull out my phone and message Jordan.
Atlas:
What interest could HelixGen Corp have in a small town?
It doesn’t take him long to answer.
Jordan:
Whatever it is, it can’t be good. Do you want me to look into it?
Atlas:
Yeah, if it doesn’t put you in a dangerous situation.
Jordan:
You know me. Danger is my middle name. Besides, I’ve been waiting for the chance to take them down since you gave up on exposing them.
Atlas:
You know why I couldn’t. Besides, this is probably nothing.
And I really hope I’m right, because the last thing I need is my former employer having any dealings with my home town.
Kai’s phone buzzes, making me jump. He checks it, and his expression shifts. “There’s a town meeting tonight. Seven p.m. at the community center. Mayor Whitmore called it.”
“I haven’t been to one of those in years,” I say. “Are you going?”
He chuckles. “Considering I work for the town, I should.”
I message my parents, and Dad confirms he’s going too, so I try to put thoughts of HelixGen out of my mind.
Kai suggests we grab dinner at the diner before the meeting, and I agree—partly because I’m hungry, but mostly because I need the distraction. Seeing that name again really threw me off balance.
The community center is packed by the time we arrive.
I’ve never seen it this full. People line the walls, sit in folding chairs, and stand in the back. Aren’t these things mostly to discuss the allocation of funds to festivals and events?
There’s a weird energy in the room. I spot my parents a few rows away from us. Dad narrows his eyes as if he agrees with me that something is off, but Mom is full-on beaming as her eyes home in on how close Kai and I sit together.
It’s a good thing she doesn’t know we’ve already hooked up, otherwise she’d have taken that as a sure sign I’m moving back home.
Mayor Whitmore stands at the front of the room with a man in an expensive suit. The man has the look of someone who doesn’t belong in Pine Ridge—too polished, too corporate, too much like the world that ate me up and spat me out for having principles.
Kai finds my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back.
“Thank you all for coming,” the mayor says, his voice booming through the microphone. “We have an exciting opportunity to discuss. This is Richard Musgrove. He’s here as a representative for the HelixGen Corporation. They’re interested in investing in Pine Ridge.”
The room erupts in murmurs. My stomach drops.
Richard Musgrove steps forward, all confidence and corporate charm. “Thank you all for welcoming me into your lovely town. I’ve been out and about today, and everyone has been the epitome of small-town charm.
“Maria now holds the crown for the best coffee and walnut cake I’ve ever had in my life.” He pats his belly and laughs. “And I can tell you, I’ve had a lot of those.”
The crowd laughs, easily charmed by the man’s words. I would be too if I hadn’t experienced the ruthlessness and the unethical practices of HelixGen.
“From Maria’s Sunrise Bakery to Chris’s Riverside Outfitters and everything in between, Pine Ridge is the perfect location for what we’re calling the Community Archive Initiative.
We want to digitize local histories, preserve cultural narratives, and make them accessible to future generations.
This is because your stories matter, not just to you but to future generations. ”
A lot of faces turn our way because what Richard Musgrove is proposing is exactly what Kai is already doing.
Kai tenses beside me as we become surrounded by whispers voicing my thoughts.
Someone stands up, and I recognize her right away. Mrs. Field, the librarian. “With all due respect, Mr. Musgrove, the project you’re describing is already in place, and quite successfully, I might add.”
The mayor gestures for her to sit down. “Thank you for your contribution, Mrs. Field. As you are aware, the current funding for this project is limited, and as it currently stands, barely covers personnel costs.” He turns to the rest of the audience.
“What Mr. Musgrove and HelixGen Corp are kindly offering is substantial funding—two hundred thousand dollars initially, with potential for more. This level of investment would guarantee the longevity of the project as well as kickstart other town initiatives.”
Kai’s hand tightens around mine.
“We’re also offering administrative support,” Musgrove continues. “We can handle the technical infrastructure, the data management, the long-term preservation. All the tedious backend work that nonprofits usually struggle with.”
“What’s the catch?” someone calls out from the audience.
“No catch,” Musgrove says smoothly. “We believe in giving back to communities. And we believe that stories are valuable assets that can help us understand human behavior, community needs, cultural trends.”
There it is. Stories as data. Extraction dressed up as preservation. I heard this language in Denver. I know exactly what it means.
Mayor Whitmore beams. “This is wonderful for Pine Ridge. We’re talking about jobs, funding, prestige. HelixGen Corp is one of the most innovative companies in the country.”
The meeting continues with mostly positive responses.
People are excited about the funding, the jobs, the attention.
But I notice a man leaning against the wall—tall, well-dressed, mid-forties and an expression of deep skepticism.
He’s watching Musgrove like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
Like he knows what the rest of us don’t.
After the meeting ends, Kai and I find a quiet corner of the community center as most people seem to be leaving with smiles on their faces. Soon we’re joined by my dad, Mrs. Field, and the mysterious man.
Mrs. Field looks troubled. “I don’t like this,” she says without preamble. “It feels wrong.”
“It is wrong,” I say, and the words come out harder than I intended. “HelixGen can’t be trusted. Their practices are unethical and borderline illegal.”
Everyone turns to look at me.
“Their donation won’t come without strings attached,” I continue. “Once the town agrees to let them in, they’ll use their influence and take over. They’ll extract everything they can and leave Pine Ridge worse off than before.”
Mrs. Field shifts on her feet, as if this confirms what she already suspected. But the mysterious man—the one I saw watching Musgrove with such intensity—steps forward slightly.
“I’m Vaughn Reeves. How do you know all this?” he asks.
My dad is watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
I take a breath. This is it. This is the moment I stop lying. This is the moment I tell the truth, even though it means admitting failure. Even though it means my parents will know exactly how much I’ve been hiding.
“I used to work for HelixGen Corp,” I say. “In Denver. I was a UX designer on their product team.”
Dad’s eyes widen slightly. He knew I worked in tech, but we never discussed specifics beyond what my role was.
“I found evidence of unethical practices,” I continue.
“Data farming. They were collecting information without proper consent, using it to build psychological profiles, selling that data to third parties. When I reported it to my boss, he didn’t care.
He told me it was standard practice. When I pushed back and refused to work on projects I knew were exploitative, he …
” I force myself to say the next words. “… he fired me. And he made sure I was blacklisted from every tech company in Denver.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Kai’s hand searches for mine and gives it a squeeze.
Dad looks at me like I’m someone he doesn’t quite recognize. Like the son he thought he knew just revealed himself to be a stranger.
“Atlas,” he says, his voice careful. “When did this happen?”
“A while ago,” I admit. “I’ve been unemployed for a few months. I’m sorry … I lied to everyone about how great things were going in Denver because I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
My dad’s jaw clenches. He looks away for a moment, and I can see him processing this information, fitting it into the narrative he had about his son. The successful son. The one who made it big.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an undercurrent of hurt underneath it.
“Because I was ashamed,” I say simply. “I didn’t know how to admit that I failed. Because I was scared you’d look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”
Dad opens his mouth, then closes it. He runs his hand through his hair—a gesture so familiar it breaks my heart a little.
Vaughn places a hand on my dad’s shoulders. “Mr. Navarro, I’ve dealt with companies like HelixGen Corp before. Your boy knows what he’s talking about.”
My dad hangs on Vaughn’s words, but his eyes are still on me. There’s worry there now.
I don’t know what’s worse. Disappointing my dad, or having him be angry that I lied.
“We need to stop them,” Kai says, breaking the moment with his steady voice. “Before the mayor signs anything and HelixGen Corp gets their hooks into this town.”
“Agreed,” Mrs. Field says. “But we need a plan. And we need evidence.”
“I have some evidence,” I say, wondering if it’s wise to share the next part.
“Before I left I gathered documentation of their practices. Lawsuits they’ve settled discreetly.
A pattern of exploitation in small communities just like Pine Ridge.
I was angry and wanted to expose them but—” After realizing I couldn’t get a job anywhere else, I knew it would be worse to put myself in a position where HelixGen could come after me in other ways.
Vaughn runs his hand over his short salt-and-pepper scruff. “Then we present it. We show the town what HelixGen Corp really is. We make it impossible for the mayor to sign anything without public backlash.”
“I can help,” I say. “I can put together a presentation. Show everything they’ve done.”
Mrs. Field agrees to reach out to the library board, to make sure they understand what’s at stake. Kai promises to document everything HelixGen is trying to do to his project.
Through all of this, Dad is quiet. He’s listening, but a distant, hurt look clouds his face.
When the group finally disperses, Dad pulls me aside while Kai talks to Mrs. Field.
“We need to talk,” he says. “About all of this. About why you didn’t tell us.”
“I know,” I say. “I will. I promise. But right now, we need to focus on stopping HelixGen.”
“And after that?”
“After that, I’ll tell you everything.”
He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder—halfway to a hug. The pressure says he loves me, but also that he’s disappointed and we’ve got work ahead.
“Your mother doesn’t know any of this.”
“I know.”
“We’ll need to tell her.”
“I know that too.”
He lets out a long breath. “Okay. But Atlas? When this is over with HelixGen Corp, we’re having a real conversation. You and me and your mother. No more hiding.”
“No more hiding.”
He walks back toward Mom, who’s talking to some friends by the door. I watch him go, feeling the weight of what I’ve just done settle on my shoulders. I’ve opened Pandora’s box.
Kai comes back over to me, and I can see the concern in his eyes.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No,” I say honestly.
“What can I do?”
I look into his eyes and smile. “Take me home with you.”
He takes a step forward, puts his hand on the back of my neck, and kisses me. “I thought you’d never ask.”