Chapter 2 — The Story Goes Public
Twenty-three minutes after I pressed Send, my phone vibrated.
WGN Investigates
"We have received your files. Are these authentic?"
I typed only four words.
"Check the time stamps."
Within an hour, another message arrived.
"We verified the metadata. We are contacting federal authorities."
I closed my eyes.
For the first time that day, I felt something stronger than pain.
Hope.
Meanwhile, across downtown Chicago, crystal chandeliers sparkled above hundreds of wealthy donors gathered inside the Palmer House ballroom.
Marcus stood confidently behind the podium.
"My campaign," he declared, "has always stood for honesty, transparency, and accountability."
The applause had barely faded when dozens of reporters' phones buzzed simultaneously.
One by one, heads turned toward their screens.
Expressions changed.
Whispers spread across the ballroom.
Marcus noticed.
His confident smile faltered.
May you like
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
No one answered.
