For The Fifth Vow のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

The air that morning in New Orleans was soft with promise and humidity, the kind that could smooth wrinkles or create them depending on your mood. Ava stood on her porch, coffee in one hand, the church ledger in the other. She had barely slept.The name Joseph Fontane had hummed through her dreams like a bad chord trying to find resolution. She’d thought she had buried that tune decades ago, under a pile of forgiveness and work. But the ledger Camille brought had turned memory into music again.When Ruth stepped out, apron tied and gossip loaded, Ava didn’t even have to ask. “You saw her?” Ruth said.Ava nodded. “She came to apologize. Imagine that—grace arriving in human form with a press badge.”Ruth leaned on the railing. “What’s in that folder?”“Truth,” Ava said. “The kind that doesn’t care who’s ready for it.”Ruth tilted her head. “You gonna tell Marcus?”Ava looked toward the horizon. “Not yet. He’s already fighting enough storms for the both of us.”Across town, Marcus sat wi

City Hall smelled like paper and rain. Ava noticed it the moment she stepped through the revolving door—ink, damp coats, ambition. Ruth called it “government gumbo.” Everyone brought something to the pot; not all of it was edible.They had come like a small parade, tidy and determined: Rory in a navy blazer that made him look like a benevolent judge; Ruth with a tote bag full of sandwiches “for stamina and diplomacy”; Genevieve in pearls the size of opinions; Theo hauling the presentation board he’d designed at three in the morning; Delphine with a second pair of heels in her purse “in case this meeting wanted variety.” And Marcus—tie loosened, jaw set, a folder under one arm, the other hand free for Ava whenever she needed it.Marvella and Mabel met them on the steps. Marvella wore lavender and composure. Mabel wore red and the expression of a woman who had come to register a complaint with history.“Baby,” Marvella said, kissing Ava’s cheek, “let’s give them our best manners and our

Morning arrived like courage with coffee.Ava opened the back door to the courtyard and let the day in. Sunlight combed the string lights, the stage waited like a held breath, and the hand-painted sign from last night—Please let us be lovely—leaned against the wall as if it had slept there.Ruth was already in the kitchen, humming and measuring. “We will be lovely,” she said to the flour, the sugar, the air. “And if lovely ain’t enough, we’ll be lawful.”“Lawful and lovely,” Genevieve repeated, floating in with a basket of rolled napkins. “The most intimidating combination.”Rory checked the delivery, counted oysters, and counted blessings. “Trial clock starts at six,” he said. “We run through the set list at four, doors at five-thirty, first note at six-oh-five, second note at ‘turn it down, please,’ third note at ‘thank you for your feedback.’”“Optimist,” Delphine teased, sliding beneath the heat lamp to steal a fry. “We won the city. Now we have to win Ms. Harriet’s right ear and

Morning brought a soft rain and a hard problem.Ava woke to a text from Monique: Heads-up—Fire sweep cleared, but Planning logged a “walk-by concern” about your shared egress with The Juniper Room. Expect a site check today. Don’t panic; just have your drawings ready.“Don’t panic,” Ava repeated to the ceiling. “Translate: iron your courage.”She dressed, brewed coffee stout enough to lift furniture, and called the kitchen. Rory answered with the clatter of pans and authority. “We’re up. Ruth says bring the egress file and the Lord.”“I’ll bring cookies and clause numbers,” Ava said. “Tell Theo I want every dashed line on those drawings to look like it paid taxes.”“Copy that.”By nine, the back office looked like a cartographer’s dream: plans taped to the wall, hi-lit corridors, arrows marching like soldiers toward the street. Theo perched on a stool with his level and a red pencil; Maya sat cross-legged on the floor, laptop open to a dashboard that lived and breathed decibels.Marcu

Morning broke in New Orleans with the hum of thunder and frying oil.Inside Rory’s kitchen, breakfast was less meal, more operation. Coffee brewed in industrial volume, and Ruth moved like a general armed with spatulas.“Where’s Theo?” she asked.“Printing,” Rory said, flipping pancakes with the precision of a man filing motions. “If that boy uses one more ink cartridge, I’m sending him a bill.”Theo charged in waving color-coded folders. “Two copies of everything—the variance, the easement maps, Monique’s logs, and the decibel reports. Even laminated the summaries!”Genevieve, perched on a counter with a croissant, smirked. “You laminated courage. I’m impressed.”Ava entered in navy slacks and pearls, calm but coiled. “Y’all ready? Because the city’s about to find out we weren’t raised to lose.”“Ma,” Theo said, “today we’re not just saving a courtyard. We’re starting a legacy.”Ruth handed him a paper bag. “Eat the legacy before it gets cold.”The courthouse stood tall and humorless