Chapter 9 - The Story They Wanted Everyone to BelieveThe edited video appeared online nine days after the wedding.
It lasted eleven seconds.
Daniel stood on the shattered-glass-covered ballroom floor, holding Lucy against his chest.
His face was twisted with rage.
He shouted toward the upper balcony.
YOU THREW MY DAUGHTER!
The clip ended before anyone heard Vivienne's explanation or saw the photographs Tessa had taken.
Its caption read:
Distraught father accuses family member after tragic wedding accident. Did panic distort what he saw?
By morning, it had been shared thousands of times.
Daniel discovered it when his phone began vibrating during breakfast.
Messages flooded in from strangers.
Some called him a hero.
Others claimed he had exaggerated the story.
A few accused him of exploiting his daughter.
He wanted to throw the phone against the wall.
Instead, he watched Lucy struggle to balance a slice of banana on her spoon.
She looked up and grinned.
“Look!”
He forced himself to smile.
“That's impressive, sweetheart.”
Then another notification appeared.
A statement from attorneys representing Vivienne Cross.
It described her as a devastated aunt who had suffered a horrifying accident while trying to entertain a toddler at a family celebration.
It emphasized that no court had convicted her.
It suggested that Daniel's grief over his wife might have affected his interpretation of the event.
Daniel felt the blood rush to his face.
They were using Rebecca's death against him.
Caroline called before he could respond publicly.
“Have you seen the statement?”
“Yes.”
“Don't engage.”
“They're calling me unstable.”
“They're trying to draw you into an argument that distracts from the evidence.”
“Everyone's watching that video.”
“I know.”
“He almost sounds reasonable if you don't know what happened.”
“That is exactly why we're going to stay focused on provable facts.”
Daniel paced the kitchen.
“What am I supposed to do while they lie?”
“Take care of Lucy. Cooperate with the investigation. Let the criminal case proceed.”
He stopped near the refrigerator.
A family photograph was held there by a magnet.
Rebecca sat on their living-room carpet, holding a newborn Lucy.
Daniel stood beside them, grinning foolishly.
They had all been so tired.
And so happy.
“Caroline,” he said quietly, “why does it feel like they're trying to make me disappear from my own daughter's story?”
“Because discrediting you helps them challenge what you witnessed.”
That afternoon, Marcus Vale gave a televised statement outside Aster House.
He stood beside the venue's entrance, speaking in a solemn tone.
“Our staff followed all relevant safety procedures. The surveillance interruption was the result of a routine technical issue unrelated to this tragedy.”
Daniel watched the recording twice.
Marcus looked straight into the camera.
“There is no evidence of deliberate interference with our systems.”
Daniel called Detective Brooks.
“He's lying.”
“We're reviewing his public statements.”
“You already know someone activated privacy mode.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is he saying it wasn't deliberate?”
Brooks paused.
“Mr. Hale, people sometimes make statements they later have to explain under oath.”
Daniel almost smiled.
It was the first hopeful thing he had heard all day.
But that evening, things became worse.
A letter arrived from Harrison Cross's attorney.
It asserted that Lucy's relationship with her maternal family had been disrupted and requested arrangements for Harrison to spend time with her.
The letter raised concerns about Daniel's emotional condition and his ability to provide a stable environment after the violent events at the wedding.
Daniel read it standing in his hallway.
His injured wrist throbbed.
He called Caroline.
“They're going after Lucy.”
“It's a letter, Daniel. It isn't a court order.”
“He wants access to her.”
“He can request it. That doesn't mean he's entitled to it.”
“He's her grandfather.”
“You're her father. You're alive, you're caring for her, and there's no evidence that you are unfit.”
Daniel looked toward the living room.
Lucy was pushing her stuffed rabbit across the carpet in a toy stroller.
“What if they convince someone I'm dangerous?”
“Then we respond with facts, medical records, and the legal protections available to you.”
His voice dropped.
“He's going to use every dollar he has.”
“Money can hire lawyers. It doesn't change what the photographs show.”
Daniel ended the call.
He found Lucy on the carpet and sat beside her.
She held out the rabbit.
“For you.”
He took it.
“Thank you.”
She climbed into his lap, careful around his injured arm.
For several minutes, they played quietly.
Then the doorbell rang.
A courier delivered a thick envelope addressed to Daniel.
There was no return address.
Inside was a copy of an old shareholder resolution.
A paragraph had been circled in red.
It stated that any sale of the company's principal properties required approval from shareholders holding at least seventy-five percent of the voting interest.
Below the paragraph, someone had written:
Harrison only has sixty-four.
Daniel stared at the numbers.
Then he turned the page.
Rebecca's protected trust interest represented the remaining thirty-six percent.
Someone had underlined that figure.
May you like
And beneath it was a final handwritten question.
What happens to that thirty-six percent if Lucy dies before twenty-five?
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