8. Kai
KAI
I arrive at the Bookshelf Café fifteen minutes early, hoping to grab a table in the back corner where we can talk privately.
But I find someone already sitting there—Vaughn Reeves, the man from the town meeting.
The one who was watching Richard Musgrove with such intensity.
He’s nursing a coffee and reading a book on sustainable agriculture.
He looks up as I approach, and there’s a flash of recognition in his eyes. Maybe it’s because I’m not from Pine Ridge, but I get the feeling he’s not from here either. Sharp features, but kind eyes, expensive but understated clothing, an air of quiet competence.
“Kai,” he says, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Good to see you again.”
“Same.” I sit down, curious. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you getting involved with this?”
“I have my own reasons for keeping HelixGen Corp out of Pine Ridge,” he says, his voice low enough that only I can hear.
“I own a large farm just outside of town. My work has a huge positive environmental impact on the area. Companies like HelixGen Corp are the opposite of what I’m trying to build.
They come in, disrupt the land, destroy the community fabric. It’s not good for anyone.”
He’s not telling me everything. I can feel it in the way he’s choosing his words. The way his eyes don’t quite meet mine when he talks about his reasons. But my gut tells me he’s on the right side. That whatever his full story is, his intentions are good.
Atlas and his dad arrive together ten minutes later. Emilio has worry etched into the lines of his face, and I wonder if Atlas has spoken to his parents about his situation yet.
Mrs. Field shows up shortly after, pulling up a chair to our table. She looks determined and ready for a fight.
“Thank you for coming,” I say.
“Of course,” she replies. “This is exactly the kind of threat the library and this community needs to stand against. I can’t stay long, though. I’ve left the clerk in charge, and we have storytime in a couple of hours.”
Atlas leans forward. “We tried to get through to the mayor yesterday. We told him about HelixGen’s unethical practices, their pattern of exploitation. But he wasn’t interested. He just sees dollar signs.”
“He dismissed us completely,” I add. “He said unless we had concrete evidence of illegal activity, we should stop spreading rumors.”
Vaughn shakes his head. “He’s already made up his mind.”
“The question is whether we can get the community to see what we see,” Mrs. Field says. “Before he signs anything.”
“That’s going to be the challenge,” Emilio says. “A lot of people in this town are struggling. They see this investment as a lifeline.”
“Which is exactly what HelixGen are counting on,” I say. “They prey on communities that are vulnerable.”
David, the coffee shop owner, comes over to our table.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he says, pulling up a chair. “And I need to tell you something.”
“What do you know?” Mrs. Field asks.
“The mayor and that man from HelixGen Corp—Richard Musgrove—they were in here the other day.” David sits down, his voice low and serious.
“I got a real bad feel about them. The way they were talking, the way Musgrove was looking at the mayor … it wasn’t about community investment.
It was predatory. Like he was sizing up his prey. ”
I feel Vaughn tense slightly beside me.
“What do you mean?” Atlas asks.
“I mean the mayor was eating out of his hand,” David says. “Musgrove was flattering him, talking about how visionary he was, how Pine Ridge was lucky to have a leader like him. And the mayor just … ate it up. He was like a kid being told he was special.”
“That’s manipulation,” Mrs. Field says.
“Exactly,” David says. “And I’ve seen enough of the world to recognize it when I see it.
Whatever this company is planning, it’s not good for this town.
And I’m not going to stand by and let it happen.
We need a plan, because if we’re going up against the mayor and HelixGen Corp, we’re going to need community support. ”
“That’s the problem,” I say. “Most of the town seems excited about the investment. They see jobs and funding, not the threat underneath.”
“Then we need to change the narrative,” Vaughn says. “We need to show them what HelixGen is. What they actually do.”
Atlas leans forward on his seat. “My friend sent me additional documentation of their practices. Lawsuits, privacy violations, a clear pattern of exploitation. If we can present that to the community in the right way—”
“People will listen,” Mrs. Field finishes. “Especially if it comes from trusted voices. From people they know.”
David leans forward. “If you can get people to come to the community center for a vote, I’ll provide refreshments.
Coffee, pastries, whatever you need.” He sits back, and I can see the emotion in his expression.
“I moved to Pine Ridge to be part of a community. My husband and I were accepted in a way we hadn’t been anywhere else before.
We built a good life here, and I’ll fight to preserve the spirit and heart of Pine Ridge, because that’s what makes this place special. ”
The table goes quiet for a moment, his words mirroring how everyone feels.
“The question is how to get people to show up,” I say. “And how to frame this so it doesn’t seem like we’re just being alarmist.”
“We tell them the truth,” Vaughn says simply. “We show them the evidence. We let them make an informed decision.”
“But the mayor is already sold on the idea,” Emilio says, his voice heavy with concern. “He’s not going to voluntarily put it to a vote.”
“Then we force him to,” Mrs. Field says. “There are town regulations about this. Anything that affects the community needs to go through a vote to ensure transparency and prevent corruption.”
“So we call for a mandatory vote,” I say, the plan starting to take shape. “We get enough community members to request it, the mayor has to comply.”
“How many signatures do we need?” Atlas asks.
“Twenty-five percent of registered voters,” Mrs. Field says. “That’s roughly two hundred and fifty people in a town of about a thousand.”
“That’s doable,” Vaughn says. “I can reach out to the farming community. They’ll be interested in this.”
“I can talk to the business owners,” David offers. “Especially the ones who’ve been here a long time. They understand what makes Pine Ridge special.”
“And I’ll contact the library board,” Mrs. Field says. “They need to understand what’s at stake with the oral history project.”
Emilio looks at his son. “What about you?”
“I’ll work with Kai on the presentation,” Atlas says. “We need to make sure the evidence is clear and compelling. We need to give people the information they need to make the right choice.”
“We should aim for the vote to happen soon,” I say. “Before the mayor can move forward with signing anything.”
“Tomorrow night?” Vaughn suggests. “Give us tonight and tomorrow to spread the word and collect signatures.”
“I can check if the community center is available,” David says.
The door to the café opens, and the mayor’s secretary walks in. She looks around and when she spots our table, she comes directly toward us.
“Dayna,” she says to Mrs. Field, slightly out of breath. “I got your message. I came as soon as I could.”
Mrs. Field smiles warmly and gestures for her to sit.
“Carol, what are you doing here?” Emilio asks.
She sits down. “The mayor is intending on signing the HelixGen Corp paperwork without putting it through a vote,” she says, urgency in her voice.
“Which is against town regulations. Anything that’s done for the community needs to be voted on to ensure that it’s not done because the mayor is being paid off to push it through. ”
“We already know that,” I say.
“What you don’t know is that the mayor has personal interests that are in direct conflict with the interests of the town. He’s set to make a lot of money from this contract.”
The looks exchanged around the table are telling. Challenging this takeover is more important than ever, and if this is done right, there’s a chance Pine Ridge is going to need a new mayor.
We spend the next hour refining the plan.
Carol will alert us the moment the mayor tries to move forward with the signing.
Vaughn will reach out to the farming community.
David will contact local business owners.
Mrs. Field will contact the library board and other community leaders.
Emilio will help spread the word through his hardware store and his network of longtime residents.
And Atlas and I will prepare the presentation.
By the time the meeting winds down and people start to leave, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic. We have a plan. We have allies. Hopefully, we have a chance.
When everyone has finally left, Atlas comes over to me. I kiss him, soft and reassuring, needing to be close to him after the intensity of the meeting.
“How are you?” I ask, pulling back slightly. “Have you talked to your parents?”
“Not the whole truth,” he admits. “My mom was upset when she found out I lied to them about how things were going. She’s disappointed. My dad … I don’t know what he is. Worried, maybe. Disappointed too.”
I take his hand. “What about the debt? Have you told them?”
“No.” His voice is small. “And I haven’t told them I don’t actually have a place to stay. That I’ve been crashing with Jordan, and before that, I was basically homeless.”
“Atlas—”
“I know. I need to tell them. I will. But I’m scared.”
I squeeze his hand. “Would moving back to Pine Ridge be an option for you? You mentioned it before. I mean, after all of this with HelixGen Corp is resolved. Would you consider staying?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “No. There’s nothing in Pine Ridge for me.”
The words hang between us, and a hairline crack spreads through my chest. I want to ask who I am to him.
If I’m nothing. If we are nothing. I don’t.
I nod like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t just splintered the belief I was beginning to hold.
After all, it’s my own fault for developing feelings for a man who never promised me anything more than a good time.
“Do you want to grab food together?” he asks, seemingly unaware of the damage his words have done.
I excuse myself, my voice carefully neutral. “I have some work I need to finish. All this planning and the distractions have made me get behind on the archive work. I don’t want to give the mayor any reason to doubt the work I do.”
It’s not entirely a lie. I do have work to finish, but right now I need space to process the fact that Atlas might not stay. That our connection was always going to be temporary. That I might be falling for someone who’s already planning their exit.
“Oh, okay,” he says, disappointment in his voice. But he doesn’t push.
I gather my things and leave the Bookshelf Café without looking back.
I walk toward the library, my mind spinning with all the things I should have said. All the ways I should have told him that Pine Ridge has something for him—me.
But years of practice have made me good at protecting myself. I may not have Atlas, but I’ll have a community here in Pine Ridge. Mrs. Field more or less indicated she’ll recommend that I take over her job when she retires next year.
It’ll be exactly like it was before last weekend. Before Atlas came into the Airstream to leave his confession.