Snow fell steadily in the quiet town, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a serene, unbroken white. But inside Claire’s home, serenity was hard to come by. She sat at the kitchen table, the robin ornament glinting in the soft glow of the nearby Christmas tree. Across from her, John leaned over a pile of papers, his expression grim.
“We have two weeks,” John said, breaking the silence. “That’s not a lot of time.”
Claire nodded, her hands folded tightly in her lap. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this. The bank isn’t exactly known for being generous.”
“They’re not,” John agreed, his gaze sharpening. “But I’ve been digging through their policies. There’s a clause about community petitions—if we can get enough signatures from residents who support delaying the foreclosure, we might h
