Chloe in Willowmere

The weeks since the heritage decision had been tense — but the neighborhood had prepared. Harriet and Chloe had assembled every photograph, letter, and document into an archive so thorough it could make a heritage officer weep. Then Gerald arrived. The developer stood at the edge of the garden in his too-tight grey suit, clutching a folder like a man who had done a great deal of reading and not a great deal of sleeping. Detective Park watched from behind a row of tomato plants, arms crossed. Gerald walked straight up to Harriet and Chloe and said, quietly, that he would like to speak at the hearing — in support of the designation. Chloe stared at him. Nobody said anything for a long moment. He waited. He had never been good at waiting.