Chapter 14 - The Lie That Reached the NewsThe attack on Theo began on a Sunday morning.

It did not come from the police.

It did not come from a courtroom.

It came from an anonymous media account that published a distorted account of the gala.

The post claimed that Lena Mercer had coached her son to disrupt Grant's business negotiations.

It suggested that the warning had been staged to influence the Rivergate financing.

And it questioned whether a young child with Theo's communication challenges could have spoken so clearly without prompting.

Within hours, thousands of strangers were arguing about a child they had never met.

Some defended Theo.

Others insulted his family.

A few used his Down syndrome as an excuse to dismiss his communication.

Lena stared at the screen in disbelief.

Daniel reached over and closed the laptop.

"Don't read any more."

"They're calling him a prop."

"I know."

"They're saying I used him."

"I know."

Lena stood.

"I want to find whoever did this."

Daniel took her hands.

"We will deal with it. But Theo doesn't need to see us fall apart."

She looked toward the living room.

Their son was playing with a wooden train.

He had no understanding of the online argument.

And Lena intended to keep it that way.

Later that morning, Owen called.

She answered.

"Did you do this?"

There was a pause.

"Do what?"

"The story about Theo."

"Lena, I don't control everything people publish."

"You've been trying to make the investigation about everyone except yourself."

Owen sighed.

"I know you're upset."

"Don't speak to me like that."

"I'm trying to help you."

"Then tell the truth about the pantry."

Silence.

Lena continued.

"Paige has spoken to the police."

Owen's tone sharpened.

"Paige is protecting herself."

"And you're not?"

"Lena, you don't understand what's at stake."

"My son could have watched Victoria die."

"Your son knocked over a glass."

"Because he warned her and nobody listened."

Owen gave a low, impatient breath.

"You're letting strangers turn him into a hero."

Lena went still.

"Strangers?"

"The media. Victoria. Everyone who wants a dramatic story."

Her voice became dangerously quiet.

"Theo doesn't need to be a hero. He needs his family to protect him."

"I'm his family."

"Then act like it."

She disconnected.

At Hale Civic Partners, Victoria summoned her communications director.

She had seen the story.

It infuriated her.

"Prepare a statement."

Her director opened a notebook.

"What should it say?"

"That Theo Mercer warned me about a dangerous drink before I consumed it. That the authorities have confirmed the wine contained a toxic substance. And that speculation about his disability or his family is inappropriate."

"Should we mention the investigation?"

"Only what law enforcement has publicly confirmed."

"Do you want to describe how he saved you?"

Victoria considered the question.

"No."

The director looked surprised.

"That's the strongest part of the story."

"It's his life, not our publicity campaign."

Victoria folded her hands.

"We can acknowledge his actions without turning him into a symbol that strangers feel entitled to own."

The statement was released that afternoon.

It was brief and firm.

Victoria then called Lena.

"I hope this helps."

Lena's eyes filled.

"Thank you."

"I should have spoken sooner."

"You were nearly killed."

"That doesn't excuse what I thought when he warned me."

Lena sat down.

"What did you think?"

Victoria hesitated.

"That he was probably confused."

Lena closed her eyes.

Victoria continued.

"I made the same assumption Grant made. I simply expressed it more politely."

"People do that all the time."

"I know."

"Sometimes it's worse because they believe they're being kind."

Victoria was silent.

Then she asked, "How is he?"

"Overwhelmed by the changes in routine. But better today."

"I'm glad."

Lena looked toward her son.

"He doesn't know why everyone is talking about him. And I want to keep it that way."

"I'll respect that."

At Blackthorn House, Grant read the anonymous article twice.

Then he called Owen.

"Did your office provide information about Theo to the press?"

Owen answered too quickly.

"No."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Grant looked at the report on his desk.

The article had referenced a private family conversation that took place inside the mansion after the poisoning.

Only a handful of people had attended.

One was Owen.

Grant lowered his voice.

"Your mother used to say that a person reveals himself by how he treats someone who cannot help him gain anything."

Owen laughed once.

"Are we discussing philosophy now?"

"No."

Grant stared out at the river.

"We're discussing what sort of man you've become."

Owen's voice turned cold.

"Be careful, Father."

Grant felt an old reflex rising.

The impulse to punish disrespect.

To remind his son who owned the company.

But he stopped himself.

"Did you know Victoria's glass contained poison?"

Owen did not answer immediately.

Then he said, "You already asked me that."

"And I'll keep asking until I believe the answer."

Owen disconnected.

Grant lowered his phone.

A moment later, an email appeared from Marianne Sloane's attorney.

The subject line read:

Delivery of Eleanor Whitcomb's Sealed Letter.

Grant opened the message.

Marianne was willing to arrange delivery.

But she insisted that the letter be formally documented and reviewed through counsel because it might contain relevant evidence.

Grant stared at the subject line.

His wife had been dead for seven years.

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