Chapter 7: Diana Fights Back
Diana Whitmore had been in the station for six hours when her own attorney finally arrived.
His name was Prescott.
He was expensive, fast-talking, and had spent twenty years making the Whitmore family's problems disappear before they reached a courtroom.
He sat across from Diana in the interview room, reviewed the folder the detective had left on the table, and said nothing for almost two minutes.
Then he looked up.
"The camera footage is the problem," he said.
"I know that."
"And the written threat."
"I know."
"Diana." He set the folder down.
"I need you to understand something.
Your father has already spoken to them.
He came in this morning."
Diana's head came up.
"He what?"
"He came in voluntarily.
With Fowler."
"Fowler is the estate attorney.
Why would he bring Fowler unless—" She stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
"He's separating himself from me."
Prescott said nothing.
"He's going to say the account was my idea," Diana said.
"He's going to say he only authorized the transfer because I pressured him."
"That is a possibility you should prepare for."
Diana stood up.
She walked to the far wall and stood there with her back to him.
"I have protected that family," she said.
"I have protected that name for thirty years.
Every problem that came through that house — the staff, the lawsuits, the embarrassments — I handled it.
I handled all of it." She turned around.
"And now he's going to hand me to them to save himself."
"What would you like to do?" Prescott asked.
She was quiet for a moment.
"I want to talk to Emma," she said.
Prescott blinked.
"That is not advisable."
"I'm not asking for advice.
I want to talk to her.
Arrange it."
"Diana—"
"She's the only one who can stop this from going further.
If I can get her to withdraw the complaint, the rest collapses.
The maid's statement, the footage — it all becomes a family dispute."
"Emma is represented.
You cannot approach her directly."
"Then get her attorney on the phone and make an offer."
"What kind of offer?"
Diana looked at him steadily.
"The kind that makes a pregnant woman think about her child's future instead of her pride."
---
Margaret Chen received the call at 11:40 a.m.
She was sitting in room 214 with Emma and a notepad full of figures when her phone rang.
She looked at the screen, then at Emma.
"It's Prescott.
Diana's attorney."
Emma said, "Put it on speaker."
Margaret set the phone on the bed between them.
"Margaret," Prescott said.
"I'll be brief.
My client is prepared to offer a full financial settlement.
Significant.
In exchange for a withdrawal of the complaint and a mutual non-disclosure agreement."
"What number?" Margaret said.
He said a number.
Emma looked at the ceiling.
It was a large number.
Large enough that a different version of her — a version that was more tired, more frightened, more alone — might have reached for it.
"No," Emma said.
"Mrs.
Whitmore, I'd encourage you to—"
"I said no." Her voice was calm.
"Tell your client that the complaint stands.
Tell her that the footage stands.
Tell her that Rosa's statement stands.
And tell her that if she ever contacts me again — directly or through you — I will make sure every journalist who covers this city knows exactly what that settlement account was opened to cover up."
A pause.
"I'll pass that along," Prescott said.
The call ended.
Margaret looked at Emma.
"You know she'll try something else," she said.
"I know," Emma said.
"Let her."
She was right.
Three hours later, Prescott filed a counter-complaint on Diana's behalf, alleging that Emma had provoked the confrontation and that Rosa had been coached.
It was a thin document, built from nothing, designed only to create noise and delay.
Detective Hale called Emma to let her know.
"It won't go anywhere," he said.
"But I want you to be prepared.
This is going to get louder before it gets quieter."
"I know," Emma said.
"How are you holding up?"
She looked at the window.
Outside, the sky had cleared.
May you like
The afternoon light was coming through at a low angle, pale and clean.
"I'm still here," she said.
