Chapter 4 - The Crack in the Armor
Two weeks passed. Ethan was out on a massive bail, but the conditions mandated he stay away from Emily.
Margaret’s smear campaign had backfired. The local prosecutor, emboldened by the undeniable cloud evidence, formally indicted Ethan for aggravated assault and kidnapping.
But Margaret wasn't done. She realized she couldn't break me, so she tried to break the evidence.
They filed a motion to suppress the audio and video, claiming it was deep-faked by AI. They hired supposed tech experts to testify that Emily had doctored the files to frame Ethan.
It was a desperate, expensive lie.
We were sitting in a sterile conference room in downtown Charlotte for a civil deposition regarding the protective order.
Margaret and Brandon sat across from us. Ethan wasn't required to be there, hiding behind his criminal fifth amendment rights.
Brandon looked exhausted. The confident smirk he wore at the hospital was gone.
“Colonel,” Brandon said during a break, while the lawyers were out of the room. He leaned across the table. “You have to stop this. The stock for our company is tanking. The board is threatening to remove my father.”
“I didn't beat my daughter,” I replied, not looking up from my notes. “I didn't lock the door.”
“Ethan has a problem, okay? We know that!” Brandon hissed, glancing at the door. “But if you let this go to trial, my mother will destroy Emily on the stand. She has private investigators digging into every mistake Emily has ever made since high school.”
“Let her dig,” Emily spoke up.
Brandon blinked. He hadn't expected her to speak.
Emily sat up straight. Her bruises were fading, turning to yellow and green, but her eyes were clear.
“I don't have anything to hide, Brandon,” Emily said. “But you do.”
Brandon swallowed hard.
“What are you talking about?”
“The night you locked me in,” Emily said quietly. “Ethan was screaming about the offshore accounts. He was screaming that if I left, I’d take half of the 'dirty money.' I didn't know what it meant then.”
Brandon’s face turned the color of ash.
“But my lawyer does,” Emily continued. “Because my Apple Watch didn't just record the assault. It recorded the twenty minutes before it. The part where you and Ethan were arguing about the wire frauds.”
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I smiled. The black folder had held many secrets. We just hadn't shown them all at the hospital.
Brandon stood up, his chair scraping violently against the floor. He didn't say another word. He just walked out of the room.
