Chapter 4 - The Public Smear
By sunrise, Nolan was gone, having thrown three duffel bags into the bed of his truck before tearing down the driveway with his tires screeching.
Mom woke up at six, her cheek dark with a plum-colored bruise. She tried to make coffee, but I gently guided her back to the breakfast nook and handed her an ice pack.
"Tess," she murmured, her voice raw. "Nolan’s truck wasn’t outside. Did you two fight?"
"We didn't fight, Mom. We’re getting divorced."
Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh honey, no. Marriages have rough patches. If it's about yesterday, I can talk to Vivian. I can apologize for the way I gave the gift. I don't want to break up your home."
"Mom, look at me," I said, crouching before her chair and taking her calloused hands in mine. "You didn't break anything. They broke it years ago. They used me, and they disrespected you. Nobody touches my mother. Nobody."
Before Mom could reply, my phone began vibrating continuously on the counter. Notifications poured in like a broken dam. Text messages from acquaintances, church members, and local business owners.
I picked up the device. Brooke had taken the fight public.
She had posted an eight-minute video on her boutique's public Facebook page, which had over twenty thousand local followers. In the video, Brooke was sitting on Vivian’s plush sofa, wearing no makeup, clutching a tissue while Vivian sat in the background wearing a neck brace and looking frail.
*"I never thought I’d have to share something so deeply personal and painful,"* Brooke sobbed into the camera. *"Last night, while celebrating our sweet mother's 65th birthday, my sister-in-law Tess had an unprovoked violent outburst. She threw an entire heavy cake at our mother’s head, causing a cervical sprain, and publicly slandered my small business because she is bitter about our family's closeness. She even attacked my brother Nolan and threw him out onto the street in the dead of night."*
The camera zoomed in on Vivian, who gave a faint, theatrical groan.
*"Tess has always looked down on us,"* Brooke continued, her voice trembling with manufactured agony. *"She comes from a wealthy corporate background and thinks she can buy people’s dignity. Please pray for our family during this traumatic time. We are currently exploring our legal options."*
The comments below were a bloodbath.
*“Disgusting! Cancel her design agency!”*
*“I know Tess, she always acted better than everyone else. Throwing cake at an elderly woman? Charge her with elder abuse!”*
*“Boycott Miller Creative Solutions!”*
My phone chimed with an email notification. It was from the director of the regional hospital network, my firm’s largest corporate retainer worth eighty thousand dollars annually:
*Tess, due to recent social media controversies surrounding your family and public conduct, our executive board has decided to suspend our marketing contract pending a formal review.*
They weren't just content stealing my money. They were trying to destroy my livelihood before I could even file the paperwork.
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A cold, razor-sharp focus washed over me.
"They want to play dirty in public?" I whispered, pulling open my desk drawer and retrieving a thumb drive containing six years of digital accounting archives. "Let's give them a real show."
