Witness statement.
Medical evidence.
Jory’s contemporaneous notebooks.
Patterns were harder to dismiss than personalities.
In February, Devo’s attorneys won a procedural delay.
The news hit Jory badly.
She came into Iron Pines, changed into work clothes, and spent an hour trying to remove a fastener that should have taken ten minutes.
Calvin watched from the office.
Eventually he walked over.
“You’re rounding it.”
“I know.”
“Then stop.”
“I know.”
She kept working.
Calvin reached over and took the wrench from her.
Jory looked up sharply.
“No.”
“Your hands are angry.”
“My hands are fine.”
“You’re about to destroy a thirty-dollar fastener because a lawyer filed something.”
She stood.
“So what am I supposed to do?”
There it was.
Not mechanic Jory.
Not careful Jory.
A daughter whose father had spent months relearning speech while the man she believed responsible still went to restaurants, meetings, and planning events.
Calvin put the wrench on the bench.
“You wait.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
“I know.”
“He gets to delay.”
“Yes.”
“He gets to hire ten lawyers.”
“Yes.”
“He gets articles written about him.”
“Yes.”
“And Dad gets physiotherapy.”
Calvin said nothing.
“That’s not fair.”
“No.”
“I hate when you agree with me.”
“I know.”
She pressed both palms against the bench.
Calvin looked at her.
“The case moving slowly doesn’t mean it’s moving backward.”
“It feels backward.”
“Feelings don’t change direction.”
She looked at him angrily.
“That sounds like something you put on a cheap sign.”
“It probably is.”
Despite herself, she laughed once.
Barely.
Calvin handed her the wrench.
“Now?”
She looked at the damaged fastener.
“Now I heat it first.”
“Good.”
In April, a municipal planning official resigned.
Investigators had discovered irregular internal communications concerning Devo’s preliminary application.
The official was not immediately charged.
But the resignation widened the investigation and made headlines.
For Jory, it had an unexpected effect.
She became less interested in seeing Devo destroyed.
She became more interested in seeing the structure exposed.
One man could be convicted.
Another would eventually replace him if the machinery around him remained unchanged.
That realization changed how she worked with Clare.
She asked more questions.
Who approved preliminary planning requests?
How were confidential applications logged?
Who checked proof of ownership?
How could development documents refer to properties without signed consent from owners?
Clare smiled once.
“What?”
“You sound like a lawyer.”
“That’s insulting.”
“It was intended kindly.”
“I’m a mechanic.”
“I know.”
“Mechanics fix systems.”
“Exactly.”
By June, Jory had been working with Iron Pines for more than seven months.
Calvin called her into the office.
She expected another case update.
Instead he handed her a printed employment agreement.
She looked at the first page.