Chapter 5 - The Public Unmasking
Harrison Vale sat on the edge of his thin hospital mattress in Room 314, staring at the muted television mounted in the corner of the ward.
His roommate, an eighty-two-year-old retired boilermaker named Frank, was snoring loudly through an oxygen mask. The room smelled of steamed cabbage and floor wax. Harrison’s leg throbbed with a dull, sickening ache where the titanium pins were set, but when he had pressed the call button for pain medication, the floor nurse had told him he was on a standard acetaminophen schedule until his private insurance cleared.
He clicked through the channels with a greasy plastic remote.
He found what he was looking for on Channel 7.
*BREAKING NEWS: VALE DYNAMICS COLLAPSE. CEO REMOVED AMID MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR FRAUD ALLEGATIONS.*
On the screen was an aerial shot of the Wacker Drive tower, followed by a photo of his own face with a red graphic reading: *OUSTED.*
The anchor’s voice was crisp, merciless. *“...sources confirm that Harrison Vale was removed unanimously by the board this morning following evidence of widespread embezzlement. In addition, Sterling Foundation representatives have released unedited raw footage from yesterday’s controversial hospital interview...”*
Harrison dropped the remote.
The screen shifted. There he was, three days ago, sitting in the ninth-floor suite. But this wasn't the edited, romantic segment CBS had aired.
This was the wide angle.
The camera showed me standing quietly in the corner, holding my overnight bag, looking exhausted, while Celeste smoothed her dress and Margaret whispered to the producer. Then came the audio—enhanced, sharp, and inescapable:
*Producer: “Should we clear Mrs. Vale out of the shot?”*
*Harrison: “Erase her.”*
Then the screen split.
On the left was Harrison’s face saying “Erase her.” On the right was a document stamped by the Cook County Treasurer: *Emergency Medical Bond of $1,200,000, guaranteed solely by Clara Sterling Vale.*
Below it, the text read: *The wife he tried to erase was the only reason he was alive to speak.*
The comment section on the live broadcast feed was scrolling so fast it was a blur of outrage:
*HE IS DISGUSTING.*
*HE USED HER MONEY TO SURVIVE AND THEN THREW HER AWAY ON TV???*
*WHERE IS CELESTE NOW? SHE DELETED HER INSTAGRAM!*
*LOCK HIM UP.*
Harrison lunged for the television power button on the wall, but his leg gave out. He crashed to the linoleum floor with a sickening thwack, his stitches tearing, white-hot agony shooting up his spine.
“Help!” he screamed into the empty room. “Nurse! Somebody help me!”
Frank continued to snore.
The door swung open.
Harrison looked up from the floor, tears of pain leaking from his eyes, expecting a nurse with a syringe of morphine.
Instead, two men in dark trench coats walked in. They flashed gold badges tucked into leather wallets.
“Harrison Vale?” the taller one asked.
“I need a doctor!” Harrison wept, clutching his bleeding thigh. “My stitches… I fell!”
May you like
“A doctor will see you shortly, Mr. Vale,” the investigator said, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt. “Right after we process your arrest warrant for grand larceny, corporate embezzlement, and bank fraud.”
***
