CEO. Uncle. Shutting down. Immediately. The words all made sense individually, but when sliced into that order and delivered with such dignity, Kate wasn’t sure she understood them. How could this man be Mr. Woodward’s nephew? Who made him CEO?

Kate didn’t even flinch when her shaking hands dropped the folded ladder with a room-shaking thunk, drawing the attention of a room full of her friends and neighbors. The other questions and confusions were nothing in the face of her biggest issue:

Destroying The Christmas Company would mean the end of Miller’s Point as they knew it. Woodward’s ranching operations made many of the families good livings, but the seasonal work meant working for The Christmas Company during the colder months was all that stood between many in Miller’s Point and the stinging crush of poverty. Her chest tightened in pain at the reality of it.

Around her, the room erupted into conversation and denials, questions and protestations, each more vehement and heartbreaking than the last. But Kate remained squarely focused on their executioner as he dealt the final death blows, not caring if they could hear him over their distressed chatter.

“All salaried and hourly staff will receive a generous severance package, and I will remain in town for the next few weeks as I oversee the dissolution of the company. Any questions can be directed to the phone number found on your severance letters, which will be in the mail in the next five to seven days. We thank you for your years of service.”

With the crowd still reeling from the announcement, he stepped down from the microphone and moved to leave the room. Just like that. Without any warning and without any apologies, he marched down the hall’s middle aisle towards the front door. People watched him as he passed, still talking among themselves, but no one said or did anything to stop him, not even Kate. She watched his mirror-shine shoes take command of the floor as if he owned the land he walked on. Step, step, step, step. It beat the tune of a song no one wanted to sing, the song of finality. A song that ended with the slam of the chamber doors behind him.

When there was nothing left of him but the faint whisper of cold air, the assembled crowd turned back towards Miss Carolyn. Some of them surely caught Kate in the periphery of their gazes, but she, too, stared at the weathered old woman for some sort of comfort. Miss Carolyn always had a plan. She had a plan and contingency for every scenario. The hall was silent. Kate couldn’t even hear her own breathing. Everyone waited for Miss Carolyn’s wisdom to save them.