Rebirth: Cheerleading the Collapse

...

"Sherry Poole from Building #8, what's your issue this time?" asked Neville Grady, the property manager. He tapped the table impatiently, his voice dripping with irritation. "You were the one causing trouble last time, holding up everyone's chance to make money."

His words, so eerily familiar, dragged me back to the memories of my past life. After my death, my soul lingered above the chaos.

On the cold cement below, my son lay in a pool of blood, his small body broken from the fall. I screamed, desperate to hold him, but my hands passed through his lifeless form again and again.

In that life, I stood in this same meeting, pleading with them. "Our complex sits above complicated groundwater systems. Below is a high-pressure underground river. Digging three levels for a parking garage will rupture the waterproof layer. The water pressure will destroy the foundation, and the entire building will collapse."

But Neville pointed at me, sneering. "Stop fearmongering! We hired a professional construction team."

My neighbor, Hannah Sykes, piled on, "Quit stalling our chance to get rich. A couple more parking spaces will send property values soaring."

...

Neville's voice echoed through the meeting room, fervent and persuasive.

"Dig three more levels, and every household gets at least one parking space. Some of you can even rent them out," he enthused. "This isn't just about convenience; it's about boosting your assets. I guarantee, within three years, our property values will double!"

Ansel Poole, sensing the tension, tugged at my sleeve. "Mom, what's wrong?"

I gazed at his vibrant, innocent face, and my heart ached with a familiar pang. The people around me were already swept up in Neville's promises.

"Good point! Parking spaces are worth more than cars these days."

"We've needed more parking lots for years. It's about time we dig."

Hannah leaped to her feet, rallying behind him. "I've been saying this forever. I'm with Neville. This is for our benefit!"

I closed my eyes, forcing down the storm of emotions. When I opened them, my face was calm, my resolve hardened.

Hannah, noticing my silence, rolled her eyes and jabbed again. "Sherry, what's your problem? Can't stand to see us all prosper? Neville's doing this for us. Why do you always have to play the contrarian? You think you're smarter than the professionals?"

The room buzzed with whispers.