We were packed in tight now. Six adults who all thought they were the smartest person in the room at one point. Now none of them could look at the others. "You all came for different reasons," I said.
"But you came. That's enough." Tara huffed. "This is unnecessary, Jason. If you wanted a conversation—"
"I don't want a conversation," I cut in. "I want the truth in the same room where the lies lived." Before she could answer, Karen tapped twice on the window from outside. Our signal.
I cracked the blinds just enough to see the lot. A quiet crowd had formed. Not a mob, just witnesses. Mrs. Jenkins and her bridge club.
A few regulars from Tom Walker's bar. Chief Daniels leaning on his cruiser, arms crossed. Jessica and Michelle standing in front, folders in hand, eyes hard. They weren't here to yell.
They weren't here to fight. They were here to hear the truth from the mouths that created it. I let the blinds fall. "Let's get started," I said.
Tara stepped forward. "This is a setup."
"No," I said. "This is a room full of people who finally have to stop lying." I pulled the stack of printed messages from the envelope. Lauren's face dropped.
Ryan's jaw clenched. Brandon's shoulders sagged. Tara's entire demeanor tightened like a rope pulled too fast. I read the first message out loud.
"Lauren to Tara: Ryan's a golden retriever. Brandon's desperate but useful. Jason's too soft to ever fight back." Tara's voice cracked. "That's out of context."
I kept reading. "Lauren to Tara: Give me three more months. I'll have the house and half his company." Lauren grabbed the edge of the mattress like she needed something to hold her up.
"Lauren to Tara: I just need Jason to look pathetic enough." I read the blueprint of Operation Freedom. I read the timeline. I read the part where Tara outlined how to fake emotional neglect.
I read the part where Lauren bragged that I'd fold like always. Ryan and Brandon stood stunned, realizing the woman they tripped over themselves for didn't respect them. She ridiculed them. Then I turned to Tara.
"You coached her," I said. "You helped her write the lies. You told her to save messages to build a case. You told her how to provoke reactions."
"That's ridiculous," Tara snapped. "Jason, you're trying to frame me." Mike stepped out from the bathroom doorway. Quiet, unexpected.
Holding his phone, he pressed play. Tara's voice filled the room from a recording. "Just push him hard enough. You need him to be angry."
"You need him to look unstable. That's how you get the settlement." The room went dead silent. Tara's mouth opened, but nothing came out except panic.