Page 53 of Worth the Risk
“Limited. Pierce Enterprises owns the property, has all necessary permits, and followed proper procedures for community notification.” Tito Ricky settles into one of the folding chairs, suddenly looking older than his sixty-five years. “We could file challenges based on environmental impact or historic significance, but those would only delay demolition, not prevent it.”
“How long could we delay it?”
“Six months, maybe a year if we’re very lucky and very strategic.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Buy time, look for alternatives, keep fighting until there’s nothing left to fight with.”
“Maya.” Tito Ricky’s voice is gentle. “Sometimes knowing when to surrender is as important as knowing when to fight.”
“I’ll never surrender Highland. Not to Pierce Enterprises, not to anyone.”
“Even if fighting means destroying yourself in the process?”
I think about Declan’s phone call, about the way his voice cracked when he tried to explain the board’s decision. I think about the last night we spent together, about feeling safe and cherished and hopeful about our future together. I thinkabout the choice between protecting my heart and protecting Highland.
“Highland is worth any sacrifice,” I say. “Including my own.”
But as I say the words, I wonder if I’m trying to convince him or myself. Because the truth is that losing Highland hurts less than the thought of losing Declan, which makes me question everything I thought I knew about my priorities and my purpose.
“Anak.” Rosa appears with a cup of coffee and the kind of knowing look that suggests she sees through my carefully constructed emotional armor. “You look like someone who’s lost more than a building.”
“Highland is more than a building.”
“Highland is a community center. Important, valuable, worth fighting for, but still just a building.” Rosa settles beside me, her presence warm and comforting. “The young man who was learning to dance Tinikling, who helped with dishes after the festival—he’s not just a building.”
“He’s the CEO of the company that’s going to destroy Highland.”
“He’s a man who looked at you like you hung the moon.” Rosa sips her coffee thoughtfully. “Men like that don’t come along often, Maya. Buildings can be rebuilt. Hearts... hearts are harder to repair.”
“Highland can’t be rebuilt. This specific place, with its history and memories and community connections—once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.”
“And love? Once that’s gone, is it gone forever too?”
The question hits too close to home. Because the truth is that I’m not just mourning Highland’s future—I’m mourning the future Declan and I imagined together. The possibility of building something meaningful that combined community advocacy with business innovation. The dream of proving that profit and purpose could coexist.
“Rosa, what if I made a mistake? What if I let my feelings for Declan cloud my judgment about what’s best for Highland?”
“What if you did? Mistakes can be corrected if the people involved care enough to do the work.”
“He didn’t save Highland. After everything—the collaboration, the research, the promises—he couldn’t convince his own board to preserve one community center.”
“Maybe he couldn’t. Or maybe he’s still trying.” Rosa stands, collecting her coffee cup. “Before you decide that young man is your enemy, make sure you understand what battles he’s fighting on his side of this war.”
After Rosa leaves, I sit alone in Highland’s main hall, listening to the sounds of community life continuing around me. Children’s laughter from the after-school program. Adult voices discussing current events in the ESL class. The quiet concentration of teenagers working on homework at the computer stations.
All of it scheduled to end when Pierce Enterprises’ demolition crews arrive.
My phone, which I turned back on to coordinate Highland’s evening programs, buzzes with a text from Declan?—
I’m not giving up on Highland. I’m not giving up on us. Please don’t give up either.
I stare at the message, trying to decide whether it represents hope or false promises. Declan says he’s not giving up, but his board has already voted for demolition. What exactly is he planning to do that he couldn’t accomplish during the collaboration?
And more importantly, do I have the emotional strength to trust him again, knowing that Highland’s future—and my heart—hang in the balance?
I delete his message without responding and turn my attention back to Highland’s evening programs. Tomorrow I’ll start exploring legal challenges and community organizing strategies. Tomorrow I’ll figure out how to fight Pierce Enterprises without Declan Pierce as an ally.
Tonight, I just want to sit in my father’s community center and remember what it feels like to be home, before home disappears forever.
