THE BROADCAST
Maya called her editor at 6:00 AM.
“I need airtime. Live. As much as you can give me.”
“Maya, the police are looking for you. They’re saying you assaulted Dr. Vance. That you broke into his home.”
“They’re lying. I have proof.”
“What kind of proof?”
“Recordings. Photographs. A spreadsheet of victims. Everything.”
A pause.
“Come to the station. We’ll put you on at noon.”
“I can’t come to the station. They’ll arrest me.”
“Then where?”
“My daughter’s school. The auditorium. I’ll livestream it. You can pick it up from there.”
“Maya, that’s insane. You’ll be exposed. Anyone could—”
“Anyone could what? Kill me? They’ve been trying for weeks. I’m still here.”
Another pause.
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
She hung up.
She looked at Danny. At Kaela. At Rachel.
“One hour. Then we end this.”
The auditorium was empty at 11:00 AM.
Maya stood on the stage, testing the microphone. Danny was in the back, managing the livestream on her phone. Kaela was at the door, watching for police. Rachel was in the front row, holding Clara’s recorder.
Maya’s phone buzzed.
Her editor: “We’re ready. Go live at noon.”
Maya nodded.
She looked at the clock.
11:47 AM.
Thirteen minutes.
She took a breath.
Then the lights went out.