Chapter 19: The Public Turn
233 words
The mugshot was the match; the internet was the gasoline. I sat in the diner breakroom, nursing a lukewarm coffee, scrolling through social media. The public relations crisis was absolute. The video of him mocking my car, spliced with his airport arrest, was trending globally.
Outside his mansion, a livestream showed a sea of people. They weren't just curious; they were angry. Signs regarding protest rights and wealth inequality bobbed above the gates. He had become the face of everything wrong with the system.
My phone rang. Unknown number. Usually, I ignored these—bill collectors were unrelenting lately—but something made me answer.
"Sarah?" The voice was ragged, slurring. Preston.
My heart hammered against my ribs. "How did you get this number?"
"Make it stop," he hissed. There was glass breaking in the background. "Start some social media management spin. Tell them I paid you. Tell them it was an accident. I'll give you whatever you want."
"You laughed at me," I said, my voice steady despite the shaking of my hands. "You laughed while I was bleeding."
"I'm Preston Sterling! I can buy you and sell you! Call off your dog lawyer!"
"He's not a dog," I said, looking at my reflection in the dark breakroom window. "He's justice."
I hung up. The silence that followed was heavy, but for the first time, it didn't feel like oppression. It felt like power.
End of Chapter 19
