Chapter 7 - The Poison SpreadTwo weeks passed.
Lauren was released on bail, paid for by my father. The court issued a temporary protective order forbidding her from coming within 500 feet of me, James, or Emma.
But physical distance meant nothing in the digital age.
It started with small things. Strange negative reviews appearing on the social media pages of my small interior design business. False reports filed against my business license claiming I was operating illegally.
Then came the calls to James's command post.
On a Tuesday afternoon, James came home early. His jaw was tight, his military uniform crisp, but his eyes were dark with controlled fury.
"What happened?" I asked, setting down my laptop.
"Lauren filed an official complaint with the Inspector General," James said, setting his cover on the entry table. "She alleged that I used military training and excessive force against a civilian—meaning Marcus—and that I have a history of domestic violence at home."
My stomach dropped into a abyss. "Domestic violence? Against who?!"
"Against you," James said quietly. "She submitted forged text messages pretending to be from you, claiming I hit you and Emma regularly."
I choked on my breath. "That... that is evil! That could destroy your entire career! They could strip your rank!"
"They won't," James assured me, sitting next to me and taking my trembling hands in his. "The IG opened an investigation, which is mandatory. But I provided my phone records, the police reports from Christmas night, and the audio recording. However..."
"However what?"
"Because of the active IG investigation, my promotion to Major is on hold," James admitted, a flash of pain slipping through his stoic mask. "And I've been placed on administrative desk duty until the inquiry is cleared."
I felt a tear slip down my cheek. James had spent fifteen years serving his country, putting his life on the line, sacrificing months away from his family—and my twisted sister had derailed his career with a single pile of fabricated lies.
"I'm going to kill her," I whispered, pure unadulterated venom in my voice.
"No," James said firmly. "That's what she wants. She wants us to lose control. She wants us to act out so she can play the victim. We play this by the book, Sarah. We destroy her in court."
Just then, my phone chimed. It was an email notification.
Subject: Child Protective Services Inquiry - Case #4092
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My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone.
Dear Mrs. Walker, This letter serves as formal notice that an emergency home inspection has been scheduled for tomorrow morning following reports of severe child neglect and physical hazard...
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