Chapter 1

The hum of the hydroponic pumps was the sound of my success. It was a constant, low thrum in the background of my life, the life I had built here, back in my hometown of Harmony Springs. I stood in the center of Warehouse Four, breathing in the clean, slightly damp air. Rows of leafy greens stacked twenty feet high glowed under the soft purple hue of the LED lights. Water, rich with nutrients, trickled through the vertical towers, feeding thousands of plants that would be on dinner plates in the city by tomorrow night.

This was my dream. I, Ethan Miller, the tech kid who' d left for the city and made a small fortune, had come home. I came back to the boarded-up windows and the quiet, desperate streets of the town that raised me. I saw these abandoned warehouses, relics of a dead industry, and I saw a future. I leased them for almost nothing, poured my life savings into them, and brought my technology with me. I promised jobs, and I delivered. I promised prosperity, a new pulse for a dying town, and for a while, everyone celebrated.

That celebration was over.

The low hum of the pumps was suddenly drowned out by a different sound, a chaotic and angry noise from outside. It was a chorus of shouts, growing louder, closer. I walked toward the massive rolling door of the warehouse, a knot tightening in my stomach. I knew this was coming. The whispers had been getting louder all week.

I slid the heavy door open just enough to see what was happening. A crowd had gathered. Not just a few people, but maybe half the town. They stood in the gravel lot, their faces twisted with an anger I didn't understand.

Leading them was Chad Thompson. We grew up together, our houses separated by a single crooked fence. He stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug, righteous look on his face. Next to him, shifting his weight nervously, was Mayor Jenkins, the man who had shaken my hand and called me the town's savior just six months ago.

I stepped outside, letting the heavy door roll shut behind me. The noise focused on me, a wave of accusation.

"There he is! The millionaire!" someone shouted from the back.

My eyes locked on Chad. "Chad? What is this?"

He laughed, a short, ugly sound. "This is a town meeting, Ethan. You' re the guest of honor." He took a step forward, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "We' re tired of you getting rich off our backs."

The crowd roared in agreement.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice steady, though my hands were clenched into fists at my sides. "I created jobs. Everyone working for me is getting paid more than they' ve ever made in this town."

Chad waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, the jobs. You mean the low-wage jobs where you work us to the bone while you sit in your office counting your millions?"

"Chad, that' s not true."

He turned to the crowd, his voice taking on the tone of a preacher. "I' ve seen the numbers! He ships out ten trucks a day. Ten! Each one loaded with that fancy lettuce of his. They sell it for twenty dollars a box in the city! Do the math! He' s making over a million dollars a month from our land, from our warehouses!"

The number was a wild exaggeration, a fantasy. He had no idea about my operating costs, the loans I' d taken, the constant reinvestment in technology and research. He just saw the trucks leaving and invented a story that fit his narrative.

"A million a month!" someone gasped.

"And what do we get?" Chad yelled, pointing at me. "He pays us a pittance and pays the town a lease that' s a joke! He' s exploiting us! He' s a parasite!"

The word hung in the air, ugly and venomous. I tried to speak, to defend myself.

"That' s not accurate," I started, trying to keep my voice calm and reasonable. "The profits are nowhere near that. I have to pay for electricity, water, nutrients, transportation, employee salaries, insurance-"

"Lies!" Chad screamed, cutting me off. The crowd surged with him. "We' re not stupid, Ethan! We know how much money you have. We know you came back here because you saw a bunch of suckers you could take advantage of!"

He took another step closer, his face inches from mine. His breath smelled sour. "You think you' re better than us because you went to the city. You think you can come back here, flash your money around, and own us."

"That' s not what this is," I said, my voice dropping. The anger was rising in me now, hot and sharp. "This was supposed to help everyone."

"Help us?" Chad sneered. "You helped yourself. You got these warehouses for a fraction of their value. You got our labor for cheap. Now it' s time you start paying your fair share. It' s time the town gets what it deserves."

The crowd, his crowd, pressed in around me, their faces a blur of resentment and greed. The dream I had, the vision of a revitalized Harmony Springs, was dying right here in this gravel lot, murdered by envy.