When I get to work in the morning, my dad’s secretary tells me to reassign all projects and only prioritize the Kennedy Landslide. “Seriously?” She nods. This is an unprecedented, inefficient use of my time.
I blow out a breath and get to work on the notes I took yesterday. I have an email from Nicole’s homeowner’s insurance, and I grimace, knowing I have to explain to them exactly what I found.
This earth movement is a textbook case of a slump landslide, I type. I send them some numbers, estimate that the headscarp will shift rapidly and that the foundation of the house will likely be at risk. I’m fairly certain the insurance will refuse to cover Nicole’s property, and I’m also pretty sure the city is going to need to condemn the house.
I make notes about the names of the property o
