Chapter 8 - The New Version of Emily Prescott
By lunchtime, a new story appeared online.
Emily Prescott had suffered from depression.
Emily Prescott abused prescription medication.
Emily Prescott had become paranoid about her husband’s family.
Emily Prescott injured herself during an emotional episode.
Every statement was false.
But each one was attributed to anonymous “sources close to the family.”
Wynn Media repeated them across three platforms.
The comments came quickly.
People who had never met my daughter called her unstable.
Attention-seeking.
Vindictive.
Rich and spoiled.
Emily read five comments before I took the phone from her.
“Don’t.”
“They believe him.”
“They don’t know you.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
I sat beside her.
“The people deciding this case will see evidence.”
She looked at me.
“What if they own them too?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because it was the right question.
That afternoon, an emergency protective-order hearing was scheduled.
Emily’s attorney, Dana Marshall, arrived from a Charlotte domestic-violence firm.
She had represented women against wealthy families before.
She looked through the medical photographs and shook her head.
“This should be straightforward.”
“Should be?”
She looked toward me.
“Ethan’s attorney is Harrison Pike.”
The same name on Sarah Bell’s case.
The same lawyer connected to the memory card.
Dana Marshall continued.
“Pike has already filed documents claiming Emily is mentally unstable and stole confidential business property.”
Emily laughed once.
It contained no humor.
“He imprisoned me and now I’m the criminal?”
“That is what controlling people do when control stops working.”
The hearing took place by secure video because Emily was still hospitalized.
Judge Natalie Cross appeared on-screen.
I had never heard of her.
That was good.
Then Harrison Pike requested that all references to the memory card be excluded because it was allegedly stolen.
Dana Marshall objected.
Judge Cross denied his request.
Pike tried again.
He claimed Emily’s injuries were self-inflicted.
Dana Marshall introduced the physician’s report.
Dr. Priya Patel stated clearly that the bruising pattern was inconsistent with a simple fall.
Pike’s confidence faded.
Then Emily testified.
Her voice shook at first.
But she kept going.
She described the locked guesthouse.
The confiscated phone.
The threats.
The escape.
She never exaggerated.
She didn’t need to.
When she finished, Judge Cross granted the emergency order.
Ethan was prohibited from contacting Emily.
Margaret and Brandon were included.
The judge ordered preservation of relevant security footage from all Prescott properties.
For the first time, Emily smiled.
Only slightly.
Then Dana Cole entered the room.
Her expression told me something had happened.
“What?”
“They tried to destroy the guesthouse footage.”
“Did they?”
“No.”
She placed a tablet on the table.
“The security company automatically backed up everything to an off-site server.”
Emily stared at the screen.
Dana opened a recording.
It showed the guesthouse exterior.
Timestamped three nights before Emily escaped.
Brandon carried boxes inside.
Ethan followed.
Margaret arrived later.
Then Captain Reeves.
Four hours passed.
At 1:12 a.m., Reeves walked out carrying a large plastic bag.
At 1:14 a.m., Ethan came outside.
There was blood on the sleeve of his white shirt.
Emily turned away.
I felt something cold spread through my chest.
Dana stopped the video.
“We have more.”
She opened another angle.
A woman was visible briefly through the guesthouse window.
Emily.
Then Ethan entered.
The camera did not capture what happened inside.
But the audio system did.
Emily’s voice.
“Open the door.”
Ethan’s voice.
“You’re staying until you learn what loyalty means.”
Then a crash.
Emily crying.
Margaret saying.
“Keep your voice down.”
And Brandon laughing.
Emily began shaking.
I took her hand.
Dana shut the recording off.
“That is enough for an arrest warrant.”
“For Ethan?”
“For all three.”
Emily looked toward the door.
For the first time since I arrived, hope replaced fear.
Then Marcus Reed called Dana.
She answered.
Her face hardened.
“What do you mean he’s gone?”
She listened.
Then looked at Emily.
“Ethan’s house is empty.”
“So is Margaret’s.”
“And Brandon’s phone just went dark.”
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The Prescotts had spent decades telling everyone they never ran.
Now all three of them were running.
