დ Elara დ
The courthouse looked the same as always: old brick, sun-faded trim, the flag half-stuck on a breeze that wouldn’t commit. I met Mara outside, and our shadows stretched across the parking lot. She wore her usual suit, sleeves rolled, legal pad tucked under one arm, face unreadable as ever.
“How bad?” I asked. I didn’t even bother with hellos. Mara cut straight to it.
“We are up against the wall, Elara. Thirty days is nothing in court time. The company has every resource. They filed a stack of objections, most of them procedural. If the board votes by party lines, we lose,” I tightened my grip on the manila folder I had brought. A patchwork of affidavits, water test logs, and photographs of the creek bed running thin.
“So, what? We fold?” I asked and she actually smiled, a qu
