Chapter 11 - The Raw Footage That Silenced the Backyard
"I didn't touch her! I saved her!" Beatrice shrieked, backing into the wooden railing of the deck. "She had construction glue in her hair! I posted the video! The whole family saw it! Ask Chloe! Chloe, tell them!"
Chloe, standing near the catering table, was now sobbing uncontrollably, covering her face with her hands as Deputy Miller stood nearby to prevent her from leaving.
"Captain Vance," I said without taking my eyes off Beatrice. "Set up the display."
Captain Vance walked over to the portable audiovisual system that Beatrice’s catering team had set up to showcase her corporate promotional slideshow. He unplugged the company's media player and inserted the high-speed encrypted thumb drive containing Lily’s raw, unedited recording.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Sarah Jenkins announced to the crowd of fifty horrified onlookers. "What you are about to see is the unedited, timestamped video recorded on Lily Evans’s mobile device on the afternoon of Thursday, July 14th, inside this very house."
Captain Vance hit play.
The sixty-inch outdoor high-definition screen illuminated. The high-powered sound system, which Beatrice had rented to amplify her victory speech, suddenly blasted the crystal-clear audio across the entire neighborhood.
The screen showed the guest room vanity.
It showed Lily, small and helpless, sitting in the wooden chair. It showed Chloe holding her wrists down behind the chair.
And then came Beatrice’s voice, roaring through the surround-sound speakers with sickening clarity:
"Hold her hands down, Chloe! Little princesses need to learn they aren't special... You think your dad is a hero? He's a broken, washed-up soldier. He's just a pathetic loser."
On the screen, Beatrice was seen laughing as she violently jammed the heavy animal clippers into Lily’s scalp, ignoring the child’s agonized screams, deliberately cutting into her skin until drops of blood welled up on her neck.
The video continued. It captured Beatrice rubbing a small drop of craft glue onto Lily's shoulder. It captured Beatrice slapping the side of Lily's face to silence her crying. And it captured Beatrice looking into the mirror and sneering: "Who do you think the family will believe? A decorated businesswoman, or a broken-brained soldier who wakes up screaming from nightmares?"
Across the backyard, absolute pandemonium erupted.
Several women in the crowd began weeping openly. Aunt Karen slumped back into her chair, her face pale as a sheet, staring at the screen in utter revulsion. Uncle Robert grabbed his wife's arm, shaking his head in disgust.
Mr. Harrison, the senior VP, turned to Beatrice, his face dark with fury. "You are an absolute monster. As of this exact second, you are terminated from our firm for gross moral turpitude and criminal conduct. Do not ever contact anyone at our company again."
The church committee members immediately began packing their belongings, walking toward the exit gate with heads bowed in shame.
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Beatrice stood on the deck, completely stripped of her lies, her prestige, and her power. Her chest was heaving, her emerald dress disheveled, her eyes darting across the crowd of former admirers who now looked at her like a rabid animal.
"Turn it off!" Beatrice screamed, lunging toward the audiovisual console. "Turn it off! It's fake! It’s AI! He fabricated it!"
