her throat as if she couldn’t breathe.
“That’s illegal!” Harper shrieked from the front row, pointing at me. “You can’t record us!”
“Funny you should mention recordings, Harper,” I said calmly over the microphone.
The screen cut to black, and an audio file began to play. It was the cafe.
“Sign the medical power of attorney over to me today, or I go to the press,” Harper’s recorded voice hissed. “I will tell them you’ve been inappropriate with me… I don’t care about your name, old man. I care about the money. Sign it.”
Harper collapsed back into her chair, covering her face as the women around her physically backed away in disgust.
Preston ran up the stairs to the stage, tears streaming down his face. “Dad! Dad, please! I didn’t know! I swear to God I didn’t know about the poison or the threats!”