Bradley sat with Trish.
She looked composed again.
Navy suit.
Pearl earrings.
Stack of folders.
The judge was Ellen Marsh.
Sixty-four years old.
Former prosecutor.
Known for two things.
Punctuality.
And impatience with nonsense.
Bradley argued first.
He said Cedar Ridge possessed contractual seasonal access to the Mercer property.
He said my decision to harvest had caused catastrophic financial harm.
He said additional contractual obligations required immediate preservation of access.
Judge Marsh looked over her glasses.
“What obligations?”
Bradley paused.
“Sponsor-related obligations.”
“What sponsor?”
“It’s commercially sensitive.”
“You filed in open court requesting an injunction against a landowner.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then commercial sensitivity is not high on my list of concerns.”
Bradley leaned toward Trish.
She whispered something.
He stood again.
“There is a development partner associated with the event.”
Rachel’s pen stopped moving.
Judge Marsh noticed.
“Development partner?”
“Yes.”
“For a corn maze?”
“The event was part of a broader seasonal tourism initiative.”
