Chapter 5 - The Price of Saving Home
Stopping demolition wasn't enough.
The building was still deteriorating.
The gas company disconnected service the following week.
Two apartments developed leaks.
A city inspector gave us thirty days to complete emergency repairs.
Grace found me studying the estimate.
“You're thinking too loudly.”
“I wasn't speaking.”
“You have a specific angry forehead.”
I looked at her.
“An angry forehead?”
“Yes.”
She sat beside me.
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
“Can we fix it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you angry?”
“Because Sebastian still owns the property.”
Her smile vanished.
That was the real problem.
We could repair the building.
But every dollar improved Sebastian's asset.
He could eventually sell it, raise rents, or find another method to remove the residents.
“We need ownership,” Grace said.
“He won't sell to me.”
“Then don't buy it.”
I looked at her.
“Who does?”
She smiled slowly.
“The neighborhood.”
The idea sounded impossible.
Then it became brilliant.
We created a nonprofit housing trust.
Residents became members.
Local businesses contributed.
Former residents of Saint Matthew's donated.
My contribution was deliberately anonymous.
Grace insisted.
“No plaque.”
“Fine.”
“No Ashford wing.”
“Fine.”
“No twelve-foot statue of yourself.”
“I wasn't planning one.”
“You looked disappointed.”
“I was imagining the statue.”
She laughed.
Three weeks later, Sebastian's investors began pressuring him.
The protected building couldn't be demolished.
Repairs were expensive.
His investment was bleeding money.
Eventually, he called.
“I'll sell.”
I smiled.
“To me?”
“To the trust.”
“Price?”
He named one.
“Too high.”
“Then enjoy the violations.”
I disconnected.
Grace stared at me.
“You hung up?”
“Yes.”
“What if he doesn't call again?”
“He will.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Sebastian loves money more than pride.”
The phone rang thirty-seven minutes later.
Lower price.
I declined.
Again.
By sunset, he accepted the trust's offer.
Grace stood beside my desk as the documents arrived.
“We did it.”
“You did.”
“We.”
She looked at me carefully.
“You really mean that?”
“Yes.”
Then she hugged me.
I stood completely still.
Grace started to pull away.
“Sorry.”
I caught her hand.
“Don't be.”
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Eleanor's voice came from the hallway.
“If you two require another six months, I'll make tea.”
Grace laughed against my chest.
I closed my eyes.
“Mother, please.”
“I'm simply monitoring progress.”
Grace finally stepped back.
“Your mother terrifies me.”
“Now you understand my childhood.”
But before the evening ended, my attorney brought another problem.
Sebastian had discovered who funded the trust.
Me.
And he intended to expose everything.
My businesses.
My reputation.
My connection to the neighborhood.
Grace listened silently.
Then she asked:
“What happens if everyone finds out?”
“They may reject the trust.”
“And you?”
“My enemies gain leverage.”
Grace took my hand.
“Then we tell the truth first.”
I stared at her.
May you like
“That isn't how my world works.”
“Maybe that's why your world needs changing.”
