Chapter 6 - The Manufactured Narrative
Before Ethan could press play, the memory of Victoria's phone call echoed in his mind. He had spent his entire life conditioned to believe that his mother was the ultimate moral authority of the family—a woman whose sacrifices after his father's passing justified her overbearing control.
"Mom said you couldn't handle the social expectations of the estate," Ethan began defensively, his hand hovering over the tablet. "She said you threw a tantrum over a broken bottle and stormed out, threatening to ruin our marriage out of spite."
"Is that really what she told you?" I asked quietly, a bitter smile touching the corners of my lips. "She told you I 'stormed out'?"
"Well... yes. She sounded genuinely distressed, Olivia. She wanted me to call a family lawyer as soon as my flight landed to discuss a legal separation before you could make a scene."
I crossed my arms, looking down at the man I had loved and trusted—the man who still naively believed his mother incapable of outright malice.
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"Then you haven't heard the half of it," I said, tapping the screen. "Watch the footage, Ethan. Every single second of it. And when it's over, tell me if you still believe your mother's fairy tales."
Ethan swallowed hard, sensing the gravity of the moment. He finally tapped the play icon, and the high-definition video began to stream directly from Mrs. Walsh's cloud backup.
