Chapter 4

The bus ride home felt different this time.

The familiar rolling hills and green fields of my hometown didn't fill me with a sense of peace, but with a burning sense of mission.

This wasn't just my home. It was my battlefield.

The first person I went to see was my Uncle Ben.

He was my dad's younger brother, a good man who had been struggling to keep his farm afloat for years. He was proud, but I knew he was close to losing everything.

He was sitting on his porch, staring out at his fields of corn, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his debts.

"Chloe," he said, a tired smile on his face. "What brings you all the way out here?"

I didn't waste time with small talk.

I sat down next to him and laid out the offer, the same way Tiffany had laid it out for me. An easy online loan, fast cash, no questions asked.

I saw the flicker of hope in his eyes, quickly followed by the familiar suspicion of a man who had been let down too many times.

"What's the catch, kid?" he asked, his voice rough. "Nothing's ever that easy."

This was the hard part. I couldn't just tell him it was a scam. I had to make him trust the plan.

"The catch," I said, leaning in, "is that the company is crooked. The loans are predatory, technically illegal. The contracts they make you sign are completely unenforceable in a court of law."

He frowned, confused. "So you want me to take a loan from criminals? Are you crazy?"

"Listen to me, Uncle Ben," I said, my voice firm. "These people, Tiffany's family, they destroyed our family once. They profit by scaring people into paying debts they don't legally owe. They use shame and threats, not lawsuits."

I took a deep breath.

"We're not going to pay them back. We're going to take their money, and when they come asking for it, we're going to tell them to get lost. All of us. Together."

I explained everything. The legal loopholes, the way the company operated outside the law, the power we would have if we stood united.

I told him I had already taken a loan myself. And I showed him the twenty thousand dollars sitting in my bank account on my phone.

He stared at the screen for a long time. I could see the gears turning in his head. The desperation fighting against a lifetime of honest work.

"I need you to be the first," I said softly. "If you do it, others will follow. Your son, your cousins, your neighbors."

He looked from my phone to the fields he was about to lose.

"How many people are we talking about?" he asked.

"Everyone," I said.

He took out his phone and his wallet. "Alright, Chloe. Tell me what to do."

I signed up my uncle, his two sons, and their families. Each of them paid the five-hundred-dollar "processing fee" directly to me, which I then forwarded to Tiffany.

By the end of the day, Tiffany had received five thousand dollars in fees, and I had ten applications to send her.

Her text back was immediate: Wow! You work fast! Keep it up!

The next evening, I called a community meeting at the old town hall.

The room was filled with familiar faces. Farmers in worn-out jeans, small shop owners with worry lines etched on their faces, young families trying to make ends meet. These were the people I grew up with. These were the people Tiffany's kind preyed upon.

I stood at the front of the room, my heart pounding.

My Uncle Ben stood beside me.

He spoke first, his voice steady and strong. He told them about his own struggles, about the loan he had just taken, and about his trust in me.

Then it was my turn.

I told them about the predatory company. I didn't mention Tiffany by name, just a "rich college kid" and her family's criminal enterprise.

I told them about the legal loopholes. I explained how the system was designed to exploit their fear.

"They think we're weak," I said, my voice ringing through the quiet hall. "They think we're simple country folk who will roll over and pay whatever they demand because we're scared and isolated."

"They look at our struggles and see an opportunity. They want to take your farms, your homes, your futures, and sell them for parts."

"But what they don't know," I continued, my voice rising, "is that we are not isolated. We are a community. What happens to one of us, happens to all of us."

"This is our chance to fight back. This is our chance to use their own corrupt system against them. We take their money, all of us. We use it to pay our debts, to fix our equipment, to send our kids to college, to build a future."

"And when they come to collect? They won't be facing one scared farmer. They will be facing all of us. An entire town that knows its rights and is not afraid."

I looked out at their faces. I saw doubt, but I also saw a glimmer of hope. The same hope I had seen in my uncle's eyes.

Then, from the back of the room, Mrs. Gable, who owned the local diner, stood up.

"My husband needs surgery," she said, her voice shaking. "The bank turned us down for a loan last week. How much can we get?"

That broke the dam.

One by one, they came forward.

By the end of the night, I had a list of over two hundred names.

Two hundred families, ready to fight.

I spent the next two days collecting their information, inputting applications, and forwarding tens of thousands of dollars in processing fees to Tiffany.

She was ecstatic. Her texts were breathless.

You're a rockstar, Chloe!

My dad is so impressed!

Keep them coming!

She had no idea what was coming.

She thought she was building a gold mine.

In reality, she was digging her own grave. And I was handing her the shovel.