Chapter 5 - THE GOLD DRESS GOES VIRAL
By morning, Celeste’s fall had become a meme.
She hated that more than the board suspension.
She posted a statement.
She called herself the victim of a “coordinated physical attack.”
She cropped out the slap.
She cropped out the hair pull.
She kept the punch.
Smart.
For about twenty minutes.
Then a sixteen-year-old guest uploaded the full video.
Unedited.
Celeste’s statement collapsed.
So she changed tactics.
She went after me.
Old photos appeared online.
College parties.
A speeding ticket.
A breakup.
A picture of me arguing with Dad outside a hospital.
The caption called me violent.
That photo had been taken the night my mother died.
I stared at it too long.
Dad took the phone from my hand.
“Don’t.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
He was right.
I hated that too.
Then a gossip site published my medical history.
Physical therapy.
A prescription after a riding accident.
Nothing scandalous.
Just private.
Dad’s attorney looked furious.
“This came from somewhere.”
Adrian called.
I ignored him.
He called again.
Then texted.
CELESTE DIDN’T AUTHORIZE THE MEDICAL LEAK.
I replied.
HOW DO YOU KNOW?
Three dots.
Then.
BECAUSE I DID.
I stared at the screen.
Dad saw my face.
“What?”
I handed him the phone.
His expression changed.
Adrian arrived twenty minutes later.
He looked sick.
“I was trying to help.”
“By leaking my records?”
“I gave a reporter background.”
“Medical records are background?”
“I didn’t think they’d publish everything.”
I laughed.
“You gave them everything.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“Celeste was spiraling.”
“So you sacrificed me.”
“I thought if people saw you had a history of injuries—”
“You could suggest the bruise on my face wasn’t from her?”
He said nothing.
Dad stood.
Adrian stepped back.
Not because Dad was large.
He wasn’t.
Because Dad looked at him like a contract he had decided not to renew.
Margaret Cross arrived behind her son.
She had heard enough.
“Adrian.”
He turned.
She slapped him.
Hard.
Everyone froze.
Margaret’s hand shook.
“That was for giving a stranger a dead woman’s hospital photograph.”
Adrian touched his cheek.
“Mom.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I am sorry.”
Then at Dad.
“Do what you need to do.”
Adrian whispered.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret answered.
“It means the engagement party is over.”
He stared.
Then she added.
“And so is the wedding.”
----
(To be continued)
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