Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Henry
I came back here to feel close to him, to remember the man who had shaped everything I wanted to be. The hallway to Room 517 looked exactly the same—same bland artwork, same antiseptic smell, same squeak in the tile near the door. But when I pushed it open, the room beyond felt like stepping into a void.
Gone were the rich leather chairs, the towering bookcases, and all the warmth James had brought to this sterile place. The afternoon sun streamed through bare windows where his favorite curtains had once filtered the light. It had been reset to its original state—another place for someone else to wait out their final chapter.
An empty hospital bed dominated the room where his reading chair had been. The walls, stripped of their temporary personality, glowed an institutional white. It was amazing how quickly a life could be erased, packed away in boxes, leaving nothing but blank spaces behind.
"Mr. Kingston?" Sarah, the morning nurse, appeared in the doorway. Her voice was gentle and understanding. "Sometimes it helps to remember them somewhere else, somewhere they really lived."
"No need," I said. "James isn't here anymore. He's in every building we'll save, every small business we'll protect." I touched the doorframe one last time. "He's in everything we're about to do."
I spread the blueprints across the counter at Rise and Grind just as the lights flipped on and the first pot of coffee started brewing. The coffee shop had just opened, but Savvy knew the barista, and we’d come early to commandeer every table in the place before the morning rush.
By the time the board meeting started, there wouldn’t be a single seat left unclaimed.
“The James Morrison Preservation Center,” I said, tapping the architectural renderings. “A permanent foundation to protect River Bend’s history while securing its future.”
Mason whistled low, studying the plans. “Starting with Main Street?”
"Starting with hope." I pulled out the grant proposals. "Every historic building owner will have access to funds for modernization that preserves character. James said River Bend's heart was in its bones. Those bones are the people, and we aren't letting my father take this town."
"And the board meeting later?"
I fought to keep the grin off my face. "Make sure every table is filled. Not just with board members, but with everyone who makes River Bend what it is. Patterson’s already working her magic on the guest list. By the time Richard walks in, he’ll be outnumbered in his own game."
Mason smirked, shaking his head. "You’re good."
"I learned from the best." I moved the blueprints, revealing the document beneath—the one establishing the foundation with my fifty-one percent share. "By this time tomorrow, River Bend's future will be secure. And Richard will show everyone exactly who he is."
I ran my finger along the edge of the foundation agreement, its weight pressing on me. This wasn’t just about River Bend—it never had been. James always said that small towns like this were the heartbeat of something bigger, something worth protecting.
The foundation wasn’t just a safeguard for River Bend but a shield for every historic small town fighting to survive in the shadow of corporate greed. It was about preserving the diners where people swapped stories over coffee, the mom-and-pop shops that knew your name, and the sidewalks where kids grew up playing tag. James believed those places weren’t just relics of the past—they were the soul of the future.
And Richard? He’d do what men like him always did—grab for power, step on the people who couldn’t fight back, and expose his true nature in the process.
I just had to make sure everyone was watching when it happened.