Chapter 5 - The Gala of Lies
The Pine Ridge Wildfire Relief Fund Gala was the social event of the season, a grotesque display of wealth masquerading as philanthropy.
It was held in the grand ballroom of the city’s most expensive hotel. From the street, I could see the valets rushing to park luxury cars. Inside, I knew the room was dripping in white tablecloths, cascading floral arrangements, and warm, expensive gold lighting. Near the entrance, they had set up easels displaying black-and-white, artistically framed photos of burned homes and charred forests—turning the worst night of people's lives into tragic decor for rich people to sip champagne around.
I sat in a rented sedan across the street, watching the attendees filter in.
I was dressed in a simple, elegant dark green dress. My hair, which Brett had always demanded I keep long and straight, was chopped into a sharp, wavy bob. I didn't look like the timid, exhausted, pregnant wife he had left on the porch. I looked like a stranger.
In the back seat, June was fast asleep in her stroller, safely buckled into her car seat, wrapped in a pure white knitted blanket.
My phone buzzed in my purse. It was a text from Detective Reynolds.
The audio file is loaded onto the ballroom’s soundboard. The AV guy owes me a favor. You have the remote. Give them hell.
I reached into my clutch and felt the small, black remote control the detective had provided. It was linked via Bluetooth to the main receiver in the ballroom. All I had to do was press one button.
I took a deep breath, the air filling my healed lungs. I unbuckled June, carefully transferred her car seat into the stroller chassis, and locked the car.
I walked across the street, my heels clicking against the pavement with a steady, rhythmic purpose.
The security guards at the door barely glanced at me. A woman in a nice dress pushing a baby stroller looked harmless. She looked like a mother dropping in, perhaps a late arrival to one of the organizers. They opened the heavy brass doors for me without checking a ticket.
As I walked down the carpeted hallway toward the ballroom, the muffled sound of applause echoed through the walls. Brett was already on stage.
May you like
I paused just outside the massive double doors. I checked June; she was still sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the storm her mother was about to unleash.
I pushed the doors open.
