Chapter 147

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Raegan couldn't bring herself to refuse Henley, so with a hint of reluctance, she agreed to call him later.

Once Henley left, Raegan called a taxi and headed straight for the cemetery.

This rural cemetery, unlike the orderly urban cemeteries, was a mosaic of simple earthen graves. However, Raegan had made sure that her grandmother's resting place was marked with a headstone.

Upon discovering the tombstone stained with red paint, rage took hold of Raegan, shaking her to the core.

He visited a family near the cemetery and asked about the incident.

The family, who did not know Raegan, remembered their grandmother well.

Upon learning that Raegan was their descendant, they revealed to him that a villager was responsible, claiming an outstanding debt.

This villager, they said, had stood up to their attempts at mediation, but his troubled reputation prevented further confrontation.

Raegan, who was unaware of her grandmother's debts, was growing increasingly exasperated. However, cleaning the desecrated tombstone took priority.

She borrowed cleaning tools from the family and began to work on the grave, accompanied by tears.

With resolve hardening in the midst of her grief, she silently committed herself to seeking justice for her grandmother.

After restoring the grave's dignity, Raegan entrusted the family with two thousand dollars, assigning them to care for the site and asking for updates on any problems.

The family accepted, since their own financial difficulties tied them to this place.

Raegan then obtained the villager's address and began her search in the city.

But before she could locate him, she was interrupted by a call from Mrs. Barton, her neighbor, informing her of a mob intent on demolishing her house, with even the property owner on the scene.

Raegan rushed to the scene and was met by a crowd of people and police.

The owner of the house, seeing Raegan, declared bitterly: “Raegan, we are neighbors. We bought this house from your uncle. You wanted to rent it and we agreed. But your collusion with your uncle has led to deception. Now we don't want to rent it to you. Make it clear to everyone that you and your uncle have no rights here.

Confusion washed over Raegan.

Since Brent's arrest following the hospital incident, she had not had any contact with him.

Before Raegan could ask for clarification, she was pulled to the ground by her hair.

«Enough! Return the money now.

A young police officer present at the scene intervened and tried to remain calm.

«Let's look for a peaceful solution. "There is no need for violence."

The owner of the property had summoned the police against those troublemakers who refused to vacate the property that she had legally acquired, despite having all the necessary documentation.

Raegan looked up and came face to face with the very image of that notorious villager, the one who had disrespected her grandmother's grave.

Rage boiled inside him as he demanded, "Have you desecrated my grandmother's grave?"

This troublemaker's face remained unrepentant as he sneered, "So what if I did it? Would you have bothered to come back otherwise? You little bitch, conspiring with Brent to scam us working people. "They were our life savings for retirement."

Next to Raegan, a young police officer filled her in. Shortly before, Brent had arrived in town in a luxurious car, boasting about the fortune he had amassed elsewhere. He had convinced the townspeople to invest, promising them profits and putting up this house as collateral.

Unknown to people, he had already sold the house, which was ironic considering Raegan was now his tenant.

Brent had vanished into thin air.

The air was thick with accusations, painting Raegan as Brent's accomplice in deceiving the villagers.

Recognizing the dispute at hand, and the fact that the money had been voluntarily given to Brent, the police officer admitted that the need to locate Brent was paramount.

But Brent was a ghost, and the anger turned toward Raegan.

The police officer tried to mediate, to calm the flames of blame directed at Raegan, underscoring her innocence in relation to Brent's plan.

There was confusion among some villagers, who wondered if their investments would return with Brent's capture.

The policeman's face clouded with sadness as he explained the grim possibilities: If Brent had the funds to return, there was hope.

If not, imprisonment awaited him, and that money was as if it had disappeared.

Desperation then took over the scene.

Many villagers, advanced in years and limited in their ability to work, faced the harsh reality of being penniless, without resources even for possible medical needs, with a bleak future.

A woman's grief erupted, her savings eroded in her tears on the ground.

While Brent was getting the money, a series of confusions occurred as a result of Raegan's decision to rent the house.

As Raegan took in the depth of the disaster, she implored the crowd: "How much has Brent taken from you?"

This simple question sparked a glimmer of hope. Raegan, known for her work at Ardlens and her university education, was assumed to be their beacon of success.

They presented Brent's notes, and Raegan's quick count estimated a staggering three million dollars lost by more than twenty households.

Because she left here at a young age to pursue her education, Raegan didn't know many of her rural neighbors.

However, their simple outfits and sincere expressions spoke for themselves of the effort of a lifetime. Years of work had provided them with savings that Brent was now plundering.

Raegan's lips formed a tight line as she declared, “Listen to me, everyone. "I'll help pay off Brent's debt this time, but if he scams you again, I'll sit back, since I have nothing to do with his scams all the time."

The young police officer reassured him: “Don't be afraid, Brent's misdeeds have been reported and spread throughout the city. "He won't fool anyone again."

The villagers, full of hope, said in unison: “Good. Give us our money back, then.”

Raegan hesitated momentarily, confessing: “Funds are not on hand at this time. To meet your dues, I must sell my apartment in Ardlens.

His apartment, encumbered by a mortgage, would bring him approximately 1.8 million after the sale. The surplus would have to be drawn gradually from your income over time.

This revelation soured the mood of the crowd.

«You promise to return the money, but now you are talking about selling assets. Is it another trick?

The troublemaker intervened loudly: “Family ties run deep. She's probably a scammer, just like Brent.

The crowd's restlessness increased, their advance was not stopped by the young police officer.

In the midst of the tumult, Raegan stood on a chair and ordered, "Stop arguing."

There was silence, all eyes on Raegan.

"Do your discussions solve your money problem?" Raegan continued, firmly and clearly: "I have given my word to resolve Brent's debt and I intend to keep it."

Raegan's striking presence, at odds with local rusticity, gave his words a persuasive gravity.

An elderly woman insisted: «We demand a deadline. When will the money be ours?

Raegan lamented, "I can't give you a date, but I assure you I will speed up the process."

Privately, he knew that the sale of the apartment would not be quick, and a deficit loomed. Your job salary would have to be enough for the incremental payments.

The troublemaker couldn't resist saying, "See? He's cheating on you.

Don't be fooled by a pretty face. It will disappear as soon as it reaches the city.

The calm was broken once again by the growing clamor.

Raegan, however, realized that this troublemaker had not yet presented Brent's promissory note.

So she confronted him: "Did Brent really ask you to borrow it?"

He stated confidently: “Of course.”

"How much?"

Under their scrutiny, the troublemaker hesitated.

"Eight hundred thousand."

Raegan's skepticism was palpable. The whispers from the graveyard had painted this troublemaker as lazy. It was unlikely that he would amass such a fortune. It smacked of opportunistic deception.

"And the promissory note?" Raegan pressed.

Caught without it, the troublemaker called his bluff: “There is no IOU. I claim eight hundred thousand, that's right.

Raegan replied: "Do we just trust your words?"

Raegan confronted the police officer, her voice firm: “Someone threw red paint on my grandmother's tombstone. I have captured the disaster in photographs and can provide witnesses. I'm going to file a police report right now. Also, I doubt Brent borrowed money from this man. "He is clearly taking the opportunity to intimidate me for money."

Caught by surprise, the rioter was left reeling.

The idea that he owned eight hundred thousand seemed ridiculous.

I was just looking for an opportunity to make easy money.

His anger was unleashed, oblivious to the presence of the young police officer.

He lunged at Raegan, pulling her hair and throwing her against the wall.

The sudden violence left everyone frozen, too shocked to intervene.

Raegan's head throbbed from the sharp pull, and as the wall grew closer, she braced herself for the blow, closing her eyes.

Then a loud bang rang out, but the pain was not as searing as he feared.

Raegan felt a familiar warmth engulf her and opened her eyes to see Mitchell's stern profile.

Disoriented, she looked into his dark, piercing eyes, half believing it was an illusion.

Mitchell's presence was unexpected and disconcerting.

She stepped back instinctively, but Mitchell's firm grip held her and she leaned into him.

Meanwhile, the police officer grabbed the rioter and pressed him to the ground.

"Do you need medical assistance?" the agent asked.

Raegan shook her head, feeling a slight twist, but declined any medical help.

As authorities began escorting the rioter to the police station, their attention was diverted to Mitchell. The agent, unsure, turned to Raegan.

"Do you know this man?"

Their contradictory answers slipped in unison.

A shadow crossed Mitchell's features, his hand balled into a fist, knuckles white with tension.

He felt like he was an idiot who had come to offer him help.

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