დ Elara დ
The office smelled faintly of dust and ink, a familiar combination that usually settled me. Today it didn’t. Papers were spread across the desk in uneven stacks, the petition on top where it had stayed since the courthouse. Thirty days. It looked thin on paper, but it weighed on me like stone. Aria perched on the edge of the desk, tapping her nails against a clipboard.
“We have crossed one hundred and eighty signatures,” she said. Her grin was quick and sharp. “That’s well past what Mara said we needed to make the review stick. And people keep showing up. The church families, the teachers, even grumpy Mr. Phelps at the feed store signed this morning. It’s not just sympathy anymore…it’s momentum,” I rubbed my thumb across the edge of the top page, smoothing a wrinkle that wasn’
