Chapter 7 - The Ghost of Chicago
The kitchen felt smaller than usual. Marcus sat at the table with his head in his hands, while Leo paced back and forth across the linoleum floor, his mind racing through a maze of shattered truths.
"You lied to me," Leo said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You said my dad died when I was a baby. You said he was a good man."
"I lied to protect you," Marcus groaned, looking up with bloodshot eyes. "Sarah made me promise. When she and your father worked at the venture capital firm in Chicago, the accounts were drained. The feds traced it to your father’s terminal. But the money wasn't for him—it was blackmail. Someone higher up was embezzling, and they used your father as the scapegoat to cover their tracks."
"And Arthur Sterling was the prosecutor?" Leo asked, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Yes," Marcus nodded. "Sterling knew your father was just a pawn, but convicting a mid-level analyst didn't give him enough political clout. He wanted the big fish, but the trail went cold. So he blamed Sarah instead, claiming she was the mastermind behind the scenes. When the federal judge dismissed the charges due to lack of physical evidence, Sterling swore revenge. He's been waiting ten years for us to lower our guard."
"So he framed her for this new embezzlement at the community center, too," Leo realized, the pieces finally clicking together in his sharp young mind. "He wants to ruin her before the senate election!"
"He’s untouchable, Leo," Marcus said bitterly, standing up and pouring a glass of water that he barely touched. "He's backed by the state police commissioner and half the municipal judges in this county. If we fight him legally, we'll lose. He holds all the cards."
"No, he doesn't," Leo said defiantly. "He doesn't have the internet."
Marcus stared at him in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? Did you not see what he did to my phone? He knows we're onto him. If you post anything else online, he won't just threaten us—he will fabricate charges against you, too."
"Let him try," Leo retorted, grabbing his discarded smartphone from the kitchen counter where Marcus had tossed it earlier. The screen flickered on, showing millions of unread notifications, direct messages, and comments pouring in from every corner of the globe.
"Leo, put that phone down right now!" Marcus ordered, stepping forward to snatch it away.
Leo dodged him, sprinting toward the stairs. He bolted into his bedroom, slammed the door shut, and threw the heavy wooden desk chair underneath the doorknob just as Marcus began pounding on the other side.
"Leo! Open this door immediately!" Marcus yelled, rattling the knob.
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Leo didn't answer. He sat down at his desk, tapped the live-stream icon, and stared directly into the camera lens as it connected to four million waiting viewers.
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