Chloe in Willowmere

He came alone. No briefcase, no assistant, no prepared remarks — just Gerald Hooper holding his hat in both hands like a man who had been doing some reading. He spread the pages on the table himself: old photographs, handwritten ledgers, names Chloe recognized from the garden's founding records. He did not look up right away. 'I didn't know any of this,' he said, and the words came out quieter than he probably intended. Marco, behind the counter, set down his towel and didn't pretend not to listen. Chloe watched Gerald's face — the stiffness still there, but something underneath it loosening, the way old wood shifts in a change of weather. 'What will you do with what you know?' she asked. Gerald had no answer ready. But for once, that felt like exactly the right response.