Ch.44: The Sister's Visit

The battle for the drive was won, but the war for the narrative was just beginning.

I was in the kitchen, eating cold pizza, when Julian turned on the wall screen.

"You need to see this," he said.

**BREAKING NEWS: MIA VANCE BREAKS SILENCE.**

The screen showed Mia. She was sitting in a studio, wearing a modest black dress. She looked pale, exhausted. A victim.

"My sister..." she choked out, wiping a tear. "My sister isn't well. Ever since Liam died, she's been... unraveling."

The interviewer leaned forward, sympathetic. "You believe she's suffering from a psychotic break?"

"I know she is," Mia sobbed. "She kidnapped a judge. She stole evidence. She's living in a fantasy world where she's the hero and everyone else is the villain. I just want her to come home. I just want her to get help before she hurts someone else."

I stared at the screen, a slice of pepperoni falling from my hand.

"She's good," I whispered. "She's really good."

"She's pivoting," Julian said. "She knows she can't win on the facts, so she's attacking the source. If she convinces the public you're insane, the evidence on the drive becomes the ramblings of a madwoman."

I looked at the P-Stock ticker. It was dropping.

**VANE INNOCENT: 65%**

"People are buying it," I said. "They love a tragedy more than a conspiracy."

"We need to counter," Silas said from the command center. "We can release the audio of her confession."

"No," I said. "Audio can be faked. Mia already planted the seed that I'm delusional. If we release the audio now, they'll say I doctored it."

"Then what do we do?" Julian asked.

I stood up. I walked to the window, looking down at the city. It was burning, but not the way I wanted.

"We don't release audio," I said. "We go live."

"Harper, no," Julian warned. "If you broadcast your location..."

"I won't broadcast my location," I said. "I'll broadcast *myself*."

I walked to the command center.

"Silas, set up a green screen. Digital backdrop. Make it look like I'm in a bunker. Or a safe house. Somewhere grim."

"Done," Silas said, typing.

I sat in front of the camera. I didn't fix my hair. I didn't put on makeup. I wore the same clothes I had escaped in—dirty, torn, stained with oil and blood.

"Start the stream," I said.

The red light blinked on.

"My name is Harper Vance," I said, looking directly into the lens. "And my sister is right. I am unwell."

I paused. The viewer count skyrocketed. 1 million. 5 million. 10 million.

"I am sick," I continued, my voice steady. "I am sick of the lies. I am sick of the corruption. And I am sick of watching my sister use my brother's corpse as a stepping stone."

I held up the shard.

"Mia says I'm living in a fantasy. But fantasy doesn't have metadata. Fantasy doesn't have bank transfers."

I signaled Silas. He flashed the Chimera transaction logs onto the screen next to my head.

**WALLET ID: 994-X-ALPHA.**
**OWNER: MIA VANCE.**
**BALANCE: 10,000,000 CREDITS.**

"This is the price of a soul," I said. "Ten million credits. Paid by Sterling & Wolfe to Mia Vance the day after our brother was murdered."

I leaned closer to the camera.

"You want to talk about mental health, Mia? Let's talk about the sanity of a woman who sells her own blood for a promotion."

The chat stream exploded.

**#SHOWUSTHERECEIPTS**
**#MIAISALIAR**
**#TEAMHARPER**

"I'm not asking you to believe me," I said to the camera. "I'm asking you to look at the evidence. We are releasing the full financial history of Chimera Solutions to the public ledger. Right now."

I nodded to Silas. He hit enter.

The files dumped. Terabytes of data flooding the net.

"Read it," I said. "See where the money comes from. See where it goes. And then ask yourself... who is really the crazy one?"

I cut the feed.

The room was silent.

"You just declared war on the entire legal system," Julian said, awe in his voice.

"No," I said, standing up. "I just gave the people the ammunition."

I looked at the screen. The P-Stock was climbing again.

**VANE INNOCENT: 88%**

But then, a new alert flashed.

**BREAKING: EXPLOSION REPORTED AT VANE SPIRE.**

The floor shook. A dull boom echoed from below.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Perimeter breach," Silas shouted, checking the monitors. "They blew the lobby doors."

"Who?"

"Not the police," Silas said, his face pale. "It's a private contractor. Heavy assault team."

Sterling wasn't playing the media game anymore. He was done talking.

"How many?" Julian asked.

"Fifty. Maybe more. They're cutting the power."

The lights flickered and died. The emergency red strobes kicked in, bathing the penthouse in blood.

"They're coming up," Silas said, racking the slide on his rifle. "We have ten minutes."

I looked at Julian. He wasn't looking at the screens. He was looking at me.

"If they want a show," I said, grabbing the stun baton from the table. "I'll give them a blockbuster."