The morning air was filled with the delicious aroma of bread and cookies from Sophie's little stand. The loaves shone golden in the sunlight, drawing the attention of people walking down the dusty path in Fox Hollow. Sophie stood behind her wooden counter, waving to familiar faces.
"Freshly baked bread!" she called out happily. Several neighbors smiled back, comforted by her cheerful tone.
Then, the gate creaked open. Jack walked in—looking good even with the struggles he faced. His pants were frayed, and a worn bag hung from one shoulder. He approached her, wearing a tired grin.
"Good morning, Sophie."
"Good morning, Jack," she replied, her warmth evident.
He hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have bothered you that late."
Sophie chuckled softly. "No worries. You had to do what you had to do."
Jack scratched his head, looking away. "Have you seen the construction at the central market?"
"Yeah, I've noticed," she said. "They say it's going to be a mall."
His voice perked up, filled with excitement. "That's great! I'll try to get a job there. A little pay could help me eat for a while. New projects are hard to come by in Fox Hollow."
Sophie's eyes lit up. "That's why you're my favorite—you really work hard, unlike that spoiled Owen." Her tone shifted, her smile fading.
Jack frowned. "What did Owen do this time?"
"That shouldn't bother you," she said quickly.
"Alright, see you later," he replied, stepping back.
"Wait." Sophie wrapped a large loaf and a bottle of water, handing them to him. "Take this."
Jack smiled. "Thanks." Their eyes met for a moment before he turned to leave. Sophie watched him go, a faint smile lingering on her face.
***
"Hey, Young Boss! Young Boss!" Ben's voice rang through the hallway.
A tall man with brown hair looked at the old wooden door, his face showing concern. "This door needs to be broken. We can't afford another lawsuit."
"Young Boss sleeps too long. But what's weird is—he snores so loudly. Why isn't he snoring today?"
"It's already eleven," the manager replied, looking serious.
Just then, the door creaked open. Ridge appeared, sharp features and eyes glued to his phone. "What do you want, Ben?" he asked without looking up.
"Good morning, Young Boss," Ben replied, and the other man chimed in.
The manager cut in sharply, "Did you forget the motel rule? Everyone checks before nine a.m. daily!"
Ridge didn't budge.
"I'm talking to you, kid!" the manager yelled.
Finally, Ridge looked up, his voice steady and cool. "And why do I have to sign before nine?"
The manager took a breath. "A woman died here thirteen hours before anyone noticed. We almost had to shut down. We can't risk that again. If you can't follow the rules, leave."
Ridge chuckled—a low, mocking laugh. His eyes scanned the cracked tiles. "Shouldn't you be grateful I'm here? Do you even know who I am? I could buy this dump and let it overgrow with weed."
"I don't care who you are," the manager shot back. "Check out from AppleCrest before the day ends." He stormed out angrily.
Ridge's expression darkened. "Luke," he said coldly, "I want all the details on this motel's CEO. Everything."
Then, to Ben: "Get my food ready." The door slammed shut with a loud bang.
***
Sophie was busy packing cookies for two little girls when the old building's gate screeched open. It was a sound she dreaded. The rusty gate swung wide, groaning under its own weight. A battered car crept out, its frame dented and paint flaking off, like it had seen better days.
Sophie's heart raced. She handed the girls their cookies, took their money, and turned to see the car inching closer.
"Two of those, Sophie," a gruff voice called out. A man pointed at the biggest loaves.
"Just a moment," she replied quickly. She waved at the car to stop and hurried to serve the customer.
The car halted next to her stand, and an old man stepped out—Sir Hayes. His faded shirt and tired expression showed years of hardship.
"Good afternoon, Sir Hayes," Sophie said. He looked at her without saying much before responding stiffly, "Good afternoon, Sophie."
His face was as cold as ever. "I need to talk to you," she said, her voice shaky. "I waited for you yesterday, but you didn't come. It's important."
"I have no money to lend," Sir Hayes interrupted, his voice harsh.
Sophie frowned. "I'm not asking for money. We've been evicted—all of us." She handed him an envelope.
"Evicted? Nonsense. I won't lend you anything," he replied, trying to return the envelope.
Sophie insisted, "Please, just read it."
As he unfolded the papers, anger twisted his face. "What is this?" he shouted.
Sophie said nothing, her hands trembling. A woman approached the stand. "Two loaves and seven cookies, please."
"Sure," Sophie replied quickly.
Sir Hayes continued reading, his voice rising. "Who sent this? This eviction notice is three months old—and it says we have one week left!"
The customer froze, curiosity flickering in her eyes. Sophie finished the sale quietly while Sir Hayes fumed.
Just then, the gate opened again. Grandmother walked in with John, both moving slowly.
"Good afternoon, Grandmother," Sophie greeted softly.
Sir Hayes barely acknowledged them.
Grandmother frowned. "What's happening?"
Sir Hayes threw the notice at her. "Ask your granddaughter. This is a real eviction order from the biggest law firm in the state."
Grandmother's face drained of color. She began coughing hard. John rushed to her side with water. Sophie held her close until the coughing subsided.
"It was Ridge," Sophie whispered. "The man who came in yesterday."
"This notice is three months old," Sir Hayes grumbled. "Now I see why Levi stopped collecting rent."
"What do we do now?" Sophie asked weakly.
"I don't know," he muttered. "We'll meet tonight. Everyone." He stormed off, the old car protesting as it drove away.
Grandmother's cold gaze met Sophie's tear-filled eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly. "Why did you lie?"
Tears streamed down Sophie's face. "I didn't want to worry you. I was scared it would hurt your health. I'm sorry, Grandmother." She held her tightly, and they stood together in silence, grief enveloping them both.
***
A loud knock hit Ridge's door.
"Come in," he called out. Luke walked in, holding a paper.
"Here you go, Young Boss," he said. Ridge grabbed it, a cold smile spreading across his face as he read.
Meanwhile, the motel manager was in his office, going through the daily logs. The door opened softly.
"Evening, Manager," came the voice of a thin woman named Elsie.
He glanced up. "Elsie."
"That guest in room eleven—Ridge—needs to leave this motel by nine tonight. If he resists call the sheriff," he replied without looking up.
Elsie hesitated. "Sir… there's some bad news."
"What is it?"
"AppleCrest has been sold."
His expression froze. "What are you talking about?"
"Check the motel's mail. The CEO sent the purchase agreement."
He rushed to the computer, his face losing color as he read. "No way! This can't be real!"
Suddenly, the office door swung open. Ridge stepped in, with Ben and Luke behind him.
Elsie greeted him nervously. "Good evening, sir."
Ridge approached the manager's desk. "This is my office now," he stated flatly. "Get out."
The manager shot him a glare but left without a word. Ridge turned to Elsie.
"Come here."
She moved closer, hesitantly. "Please, sir, I need this job. My husband is sick, and my kids depend on me."
"I'm not firing you," Ridge replied. "You're the new manager."
She stared at him in disbelief. "You just made me manager?"
"Yes. You'll still come in daily and get paid. But no one will stay here. Tell all customers and staff to leave this motel early tomorrow morning."
Elsie frowned, confused. "Sir, you spent a lot on AppleCrest. Why close it?"
Ridge's eyes narrowed. "You're asking too many questions. Just do what I say if you want to keep your job."
He turned and walked out.
***
As night fell, sixteen tenants gathered in a tight circle under the flickering courtyard light. Tension filled the air.
"Sophie is such a fool," Linda hissed.
"What were you thinking?" Mae shot back, her frustration evident.
"Oh, ignore her," Grace scoffed. "She thinks she's above us." The group fell silent. Grace talking to Mae? That was unexpected.
"Grace, did you really just talk to Mae?" Jacob, the one-eyed man, asked, curiosity piqued.
Sir Hayes's voice broke through the chatter. "Enough, Jacob! We need to discuss the eviction!"
Jacob snapped back, "Don't yell at me! You're not in charge, Hayes! Always pretending to lead."
"And you're just a thief who lost his eye during a robbery!" Hayes retorted.
"Shut it, both of you!" Calla, the stern black woman, barked.
"Arguing won't help us! What's our next move?" Lila asked cay admits the tension.
"I say we fight! We resist! We're not going anywhere!" Jack shouted, ever the hothead.
Silence followed. "Let's hear from our only professor," Owen chimed in. "Professor Zeus, what should we do?"
"I'm also a professor, you spoilt brat," Hayes interjected. Linda shot him a cold look.
Professor Zeus cleared his throat. "Negotiate, not resist. Talking is better." Some nodded, others scoffed.
When the meeting wrapped up, Sophie stood quietly, head down. Only Jack and Owen lingered.
Owen approached, his stare icy. As Sophie turned to leave, he grabbed her arm. Jack, quick to react, stepped up and seized Owen by the collar. "Watch it," he warned.
Owen smirked. "You really think you can reject my offer for this starving fool?"
Jack's fist landed squarely on Owen's nose. Blood spilled. Owen retaliated. They exchanged blows, hard and fast.
"Stop it! Please, stop!" Sophie cried, but her words fell on deaf ears. She tried to break them apart. In the chaos, a stray punch hit her face. Sophie collapsed—silent and still. The fight halted immediately.