CHAPTER SIX: THE DINNER THAT WOULD NOT HAPPEN

By evening, the canceled event had become a neighborhood argument.
A local reporter called it a dispute over a memorial dinner.
The redevelopment group described the delay as a technical misunderstanding.
Victor told a radio host that hostile outsiders were attacking a project designed to improve Eastbank.
He did not mention the people whose names had been used.
Ethan heard the interview while buying groceries.
A woman near the freezer aisle shook her head at the radio.
“People don’t want anything built anymore,” she said.
Ethan almost answered.
Instead, he carried his basket to the register and paid for rice, eggs, and an onion.
Across town, Gideon met with a representative of the redevelopment coalition.
Her name was Celia Brand.
She wore a bright scarf and carried a portfolio of architectural drawings.


“We commissioned an event, not a controversy,” she told him.
“The approved program included community endorsements,” Gideon said.
“Approved by whom?”
“The restaurant assured us they had been collected.”
Talia set the memorial flyer beside the redevelopment proposal.
“The purpose stated in these documents is different,” she said.
Celia compared them.
“Someone should have explained the connection,” she admitted.
“But the project has legitimate supporters.”
“Then you should be able to hear from them without borrowing dead people’s names,” Gideon replied.
Celia looked toward the window.
“The zoning committee meets next week.”
“The dinner was supposed to introduce the public campaign.”
“If we lose that date, the investors could walk.”
Gideon remained seated.
“That is not a reason to publish words people never said.”
Celia asked whether Victor had altered material after the coalition sent its first draft.


Talia could not answer without a comparison.
They arranged for Celia to provide the original event proposal through counsel.
Nobody promised confidentiality that would prevent families from finding out what had happened.
Meanwhile, Victor began calling former staff.
He offered Marta the kitchen supervisor position if she would confirm that every family had approved the program.
“I never spoke to the families,” Marta told him.
“Then say the office handled it,” Victor replied.
“That part is true.”
“And everything else?” Marta asked.
Victor hung up.
Marta immediately wrote down the conversation in her notebook.
She had worked restaurants long enough to know that memories grew slippery when people realized money was at stake.
She called Ethan and read the exchange aloud.
He told her to keep the notebook.
“I’m not a detective,” Marta said.
“Neither am I.”
“Then why does it feel like we are doing their work?”
Ethan looked at the rain beneath his window.
“Because the people with power keep telling us the truth belongs to somebody else.”

CHAPTER SEVEN: VICTOR’S SECOND OFFER