Where the Past Ends Chapter 06
The post kept picking up steam.
My phone was useless under the flood of calls and messages.
Former classmates piled into the comments to offer themselves up as witnesses.
Owen Parker went first.
“I was in his class for four years.
“Elliot was unbelievably controlling. He made Naomi report where she was at all times and wouldn’t let her near another guy.”
Kevin Price answered right behind him.
“I roomed with him for four years.
“He looked down on all of us because of his grades and his family money.
“He treated Derek like dirt.”
Even Dr. Reese sat down for an interview with an online news channel.
He sighed into the camera.
“Elliot’s grades were excellent, but his character was a concern.
“Right before graduation he disrupted a classmate’s engagement and nearly got physical.
“The university tried to correct his behavior. He wouldn’t hear it.”
They gave it just enough detail to sound credible, and the public swallowed all of it.
I went downstairs for a bowl of soup, and the owner recognized me and pulled the menu out of my hands.
“Get out.”
I stared at him.
“I haven’t even ordered.”
“I’m not serving you.”
He pointed at the door.
“I don’t want a guy who used an old woman’s life to control his girlfriend sitting in my place.”
A customer nearby lifted a phone and started filming.
“Look, it’s that control freak from online.”
“No shame at all. He’s still out walking around.”
I put my head down and left.
When I got back to my rented room, red paint covered the door.
One word, in letters a foot high.
SCUM.
Diane Whitlock, my landlord, was waiting in the hallway.
“I need you to move out.
“They’re here every day. My family can’t live like this.”
I took out my key.
“Give me three days.”
Diane sighed.
“As soon as you can.”
I shut the door and sat down beside my grandmother’s urn.
“Grandma, everybody’s saying I’m a monster.
“But you know I’m not.”
I wiped my face and opened my laptop.
Crying wasn’t going to do anything.
I needed evidence.
I called Ruth Harlan first.
“Ruth, do you still have her phone?”
“It’s right here.”
She answered immediately.
“I was scared it’d get lost, so I’ve been keeping it safe.”
“Charge it for me, please.”
My grip tightened around my own phone.
“Don’t delete anything, don’t go into it, and don’t let anybody else touch it.”
“All right.”
She lowered her voice.
“Eli, what’s going on?”
“Somebody helped put her in that hospital, and now he’s trying to pin it all on me.”
“Don’t you worry.”
Ruth swore under her breath.
“I’ll tell them every bit of what I saw.”
Then I pulled the joint-account records.
The fifty thousand dollars had gone straight into Derek Vaughn’s account, plain as day.
He’d claimed the money was for his sister’s tuition.
Yet on the day of the engagement, he’d posted a photo of a brand-new luxury watch.
The purchase went through thirty minutes after the transfer.
I saved the post and the timestamp.
Next I had counsel request the Bellrose Hotel’s security footage from hotel management.
The recording showed I walked into the ballroom and walked out again in under ten minutes.
The story about me destroying the event and attacking people was fiction.
Finally I called the front desk at Booth Legal Group.
“Hello. I need to speak with Samuel Booth.”
The secretary asked, “Do you have an appointment?”
“Tell him Elliot Fraser is calling.”
The line went quiet.
“Mr. Fraser. Attorney Booth has been expecting you.”
My grandmother had helped Samuel Booth back when he was young and had nothing.
She kept his card at the bottom of an old cedar chest and told me once, “If you’re ever out of options, you call that man.”
Half an hour later, Booth joined a video call.
“I’ve seen what’s happening online.”
I sent him the records.
“I want the posts down, corrections and apologies on the record, and her name cleared.”
He looked over the bank statements.
“It’s a start. It isn’t enough.”
“I know.”
I opened the evidence index I’d built.
“I’ve captured the original post, the reposts, the comments, and every statement my classmates made.
“Her phone gets here tomorrow, tracked and signed for the whole way.
“And whatever Derek built those screenshots out of, it left a trail.”
Booth nodded.
“You’re calmer than I expected.”
I looked over at my grandmother’s urn.
“I can’t afford to lose it.
“The second I do, they win.”
Three days later we had everything organized and preserved.
Booth sent out the preservation notices, the retraction demands, and the litigation notices.
I posted exactly one sentence.
“Every person who knowingly spread a lie about me is going to answer for it.”
