The Livestream That Exposed a Corpse

A man in a slicked-back haircut and a sharp suit stepped forward holding a briefcase.

He pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose and gave the camera the practiced little smile he had used a hundred times.

The chat caught him fast.

[That's Marshall Pierce!]

[Top defense lawyer in the country. Crowley group's chief counsel!]

[Oh good, let the pros handle her!]

[May Fairfax is finished! There is no escaping Marshall Pierce!]

Marshall pulled a sheet of paper out of his briefcase, cleared his throat, and read it like he was reading a verdict.

"Per the criminal code, anyone who intentionally inflicts serious bodily injury on another person may be sentenced to a multi-year term, depending on the severity and the specific circumstances. In cases involving particularly cruel methods or aggravating factors, the sentence may be longer."

He paused. He looked toward the dead, empty room.

"Ms. Fairfax. You are suspected of intentional bodily injury resulting in miscarriage, with aggravating circumstances. I recommend you turn yourself in voluntarily. It is the path that leads to leniency."

The chat went off.

[Did everyone hear that? May Fairfax, you are going to prison!]

[Marshall Pierce is right. Turn yourself in!]

[May, stop hiding and come out!]

Wendy felt the wave under her. Her chin came up.

She turned back toward the empty house. Something flickered in her eyes for half a second. Pleasure.

"Marshall. Tell her something for me." Her voice was clear now. There was no shake left in it. "I want her in prison. For three days my son has been dead. For three days I have been hearing him crying for me in my dreams."

"Why does the wicked one walk around free? I want her to pay with her life. Or I want her to scoop her own eggs out of her body.

"One egg for one of his organs. I want her to know what it feels like to watch her own flesh and blood disappear in front of her."

The chat hung for a beat. Then it broke open.

[Harvest her eggs? That's a little...]

[No, it's fair. One life for one life. She killed a six-month boy. Eggs aren't a person. A baby is a person!]

[I support this! May can't have a son anyway, can she? Make sure she never has one!]

[Take away her right to be a mother, forever!]

Tristan stood off to the side. He had not said a word.

He watched the whole thing the way you watch a stranger get sentenced. Cold.

Against the corner wall, the drunk man lifted his head.

His eyes were filmy. His voice came out dead clear.

"You're lying."

Everyone froze.

Wendy turned toward him in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

"I said you're lying." He pulled himself up the wall and stood. "Three days ago, she did not make you miscarry. There is no way."

The chat had not registered yet. Marshall got there first. He gave a soft, mean laugh and looked the drunk up and down.

"What does a beggar know? Are you saying the wound on Ms. Crowley's belly is fake? Are you saying she opened her own stomach with a knife to frame someone?"

His voice was contemptuous.

"Have you ever been a mother? Do you know what it is to lose a child? Do you have any idea what it took for her to lift her shirt in front of this camera?"

The chat fell in.

[Is this man drunk? Why is he defending the killer? Wendy's scar isn't a deepfake!]

[Marshall absolutely roasted him!]

[I bet this drunk is in on it. Arrest him too!]

Tristan's face had gone the kind of hard you can't argue with.

He walked toward the drunk slow. Each word came out from between his teeth.

"Do you know May Fairfax?"

The drunk shook his head. "No."

"Then on what basis are you calling Ms. Crowley a liar?"

The drunk shrank a little. Then he set his jaw and got it out anyway.

"If you saw the woman in this villa three days ago, you'd know she could not have hurt anyone."