Chapter 8 - Cracks in the Syndicate
The unedited video was released at 6:00 PM that evening.
Vanguard Creative didn't just post it; they issued a formal corporate press release linking the raw audio file, detailing the civil contempt citations issued against Linda Cole and Danielle Miller.
The internet’s reversal was instantaneous, violent, and total.
The same Upper Arlington Facebook group that had demanded my firing turned its digital pitchforks directly at Linda Cole.
*“Linda Cole is an absolute monster!”*
*“Look at Jessica Pratt smirking in that chair! Pure evil!”*
*“Megan Cole should be ashamed of herself—treating her sister-in-law like that after she bought her a twelve-hundred-dollar stroller?”*
*“Isn’t Linda on the board of the Columbus Symphony Gala? We need to email the trustees immediately.”*
By Wednesday morning, Linda’s beloved social world was crumbling like dry paper in a furnace.
The Symphony Gala committee released a terse, two-sentence statement announcing that Linda Cole had “stepped down from all volunteer leadership roles to focus on private family matters.” The Scioto Country Club suspended her dining privileges pending an ethics review. Her bridge partners stopped returning her texts.
The syndicate was cracking from the inside out.
At 2:00 PM, my phone rang. The caller ID read: *Megan Cole.*
My sister-in-law. The woman who had told me to “try the kitchen.”
I let it ring four times before answering.
“Hannah?” Megan’s voice was ragged, choked with hysterical sobs. “Hannah, please... you have to take the video down! Please!”
“Hello, Megan,” I said, leaning back in my desk chair, watching the clouds move over the city. “How is your morning sickness?”
“People are calling my obstetrician’s office!” Megan cried, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Someone sent the unedited video to my husband’s law firm partners! Dave is furious with me! He said if my family’s drama costs him his associate bonus, he’s taking the baby and moving to Cincinnati!”
“That sounds stressful, Megan,” I said, my voice entirely devoid of pity. “Almost as stressful as carrying a thirty-pound stroller into a room full of women who spent three weeks planning my public humiliation.”
“I didn't know!” Megan shrieked. “Linda told me that you knew about Jessica! She told me that you and Brian had already agreed to divorce, that you were refusing to move out just to spite Brian! She said Jessica was coming to the shower because she was Brian’s official partner and that you were coming to make a scene!”
“And telling me to try the kitchen?” I asked, my tone dropping to ice. “Did Linda write that line for you, too? Or did that come naturally from your own heart?”
Silence hung on the line, heavy and suffocating.
“I... I was trying to make Jessica like me,” Megan whispered, her voice pathetic, small, stripped of all suburban arrogance. “Jessica’s father is Robert Pratt. Dave’s firm does commercial leasing for Pratt Development. Dave told me that if I stayed on Jessica’s good side, Robert Pratt would throw his underwriting accounts to Dave’s team. I did it for my husband, Hannah! I did it for my baby!”
“You threw me to the wolves for an underwriting referral,” I said. “And now the wolves are hungry, Megan. You wanted Jessica Pratt in your family? You have her. Enjoy your new sister-in-law.”
“Hannah, wait! Jessica isn't who you think she is!” Megan blurted out, terror making her words tumble over each other. “She’s screaming at Brian right now at the townhome! Dave went over there to drop off some baby clothes and heard them through the door! Jessica’s father found out about the bank freeze! Robert Pratt told Brian that if his name appears in any court filings regarding the forged lease, he’s cutting Jessica off completely and firing Brian from every commercial account in Ohio!”
I smiled to myself. “Is that so?”
“Jessica told Brian that if he doesn't produce two hundred thousand dollars by Friday to pay off the lease and buy her out of the scandal, she’s taking the baby to Florida and putting another man’s name on the birth certificate!” Megan sobbed. “Brian is losing his mind, Hannah! He’s at Linda’s house right now tearing the place apart looking for bonds!”
“Thank you for the update, Megan,” I said smoothly.
“Will you take the video down?” she begged. “Please, Hannah. For my baby.”
“Your baby will be fine, Megan,” I replied. “Just make sure that when she grows up, you teach her how to find a seat in a sunroom without having to step on someone else’s neck to get it.”
I hung up the phone.
Two minutes later, Marcus Vance buzzed my extension.
“Hannah,” Marcus said, his voice crackling with excitement. “Get down to my office. We just received Brian’s emergency response to our freeze motion.”
“What does it say?”
May you like
“He’s agreed to a sworn deposition tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM,” Marcus laughed. “He’s bringing Linda and Jessica as ‘material character witnesses’ to convince Judge Ross to unfreeze the liquid accounts. They’re walking straight into the slaughterhouse.”
***
