The notification arrived just after sunrise. Our first official request for help had come from a small coastal town thousands of miles away.
"They say the land belongs to the company. We say it belongs to us. They have lawyers. We have nothing but the truth. Is that enough? — The people of Haven's Cove."
I read the message aloud at the foundation table.
Maya leaned forward. “Well? What are we waiting for?”
“We don't just show up and fight,” Zara said. “We listen first. We learn their story, then help them tell it.”
“I'm going,” I announced. “Victor, are you coming?”
“Try stopping me,” he replied with a smile.
Two days later, we arrived in Haven's Cove. Colourful houses stood between the sea and green hills, but the town felt tense. People hurried through the streets, and doors close
