Chapter 9 - The Broadcast
Mr. Davis brought us into a secure back office and locked the door.
We spent the next hour detailing the entire horrifying story.
Julia explained the toxic dumping that had occurred forty years ago under Richard Vance’s orders.
I explained how Marcus Vance had attempted to murder us to secure the land.
The reporter listened intently, furiously taking notes on his legal pad.
“This is the biggest story of my career,” Davis said, adjusting his glasses.
“But Vanguard Development practically owns this town.”
“If we broadcast this, their lawyers will sue the station into oblivion unless we have hard proof.”
Julia reached into her coat and pulled out a folded, yellowed piece of paper.
It was an old manifest document, signed by Richard Vance himself.
“I kept this,” Julia revealed, sliding the paper across the desk.
“It details the exact chemical composition of the barrels buried under the barn.”
“I stole it from his office the night I ran away.”
Davis examined the document, his eyes widening in shock.
“This is a smoking gun,” he whispered.
“I’m putting you on the morning broadcast in ten minutes.”
They rushed us into the makeup room to quickly clean the worst of the soot off our faces.
Mom sat quietly in the corner, holding my hand tightly.
“I’m proud of you, Clara,” she whispered.
I squeezed her hand, finally finding it in my heart to forgive her for her weakness.
We were led onto the bright, freezing studio floor.
The red light on the main camera blinked on, and Davis began the broadcast.
He introduced the story with a grim, serious tone, explaining the allegations against Vanguard Development.
Then, the camera focused on Julia.
She spoke with unbelievable strength and clarity.
She named Marcus Vance on live television and gave the exact GPS coordinates of the buried toxic waste.
“They burned our home to the ground last night to keep this quiet,” Julia announced to the camera.
“But the truth is buried deep in that soil, and it will poison this county if it is not removed.”
As the broadcast continued, the studio phones began to ring off the hook.
People were terrified, outraged, and demanding answers from the local government.
The federal branch of the Environmental Protection Agency was tagged immediately on social media.
The cover-up had been completely blown wide open.
Suddenly, the heavy studio doors burst open, and local police officers rushed in.
But they weren't there to arrest us.
They were accompanied by federal agents wearing dark windbreakers.
A stern-looking FBI agent walked up to the anchor desk.
“Are you Clara and Julia?” he asked.
“We are,” I replied, standing up straight.
“We just raided the Vanguard Development offices based on your broadcast,” the agent stated.
“Marcus Vance has been taken into federal custody.”
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I felt a massive weight lift off my shoulders, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.
The monster was locked in a cage.
