Chapter 5 - The Premature Victory
By 7:45 A.M., the granite plaza outside the Montgomery County Courthouse was teeming with local news reporters, freelance bloggers, and hundreds of Fiona Vance’s feverish online followers. Fiona stood on the wide marble steps wearing an immaculate, tear-stained designer trench coat, holding an iPhone on an expensive gimbal stabilizer.
"Hey guys... thank you so much for the prayers," Fiona spoke into the lens, her voice trembling with practiced, cinematic melancholy. "I haven't slept a wink. To know that my own flesh and blood—my sister Evelyn—could look our dying grandfather in the eye and forge his signature while he was on his deathbed... it breaks my heart. But today, justice is going to be served."
Behind her, Harold Vance stood tall, his chest puffed out beneath a tailored charcoal suit he couldn't afford. Beatrice was beside him, dabbing at dry eyes with an embroidered lace handkerchief while constantly checking her reflection in the dark glass of the courthouse entrance.
"The police did their job last night," Harold announced loudly to a local news crew that had thrust a microphone toward him. "Evelyn is currently locked in a cell where she belongs. Today, Judge Harrison will correct this terrible nightmare. We are here to reclaim my father’s legacy from a thief."
A black town car slid smoothly to the curb. The chauffeur leaped out to open the door, and Marcus Albright stepped onto the asphalt. He was a man who looked like an advertisement for high-priced predatory law—silver-templed, impeccably groomed, carrying a pristine calfskin briefcase that held the forged paperwork.
"Marcus!" Harold called out, hurrying down the steps to shake the attorney's hand. "Is everything ready?"
Albright offered a smug, patronizing smile. "The emergency petition is ironclad, Harold. With Evelyn detained on felony fraud charges and unable to post bail before the nine o'clock calendar call, she defaults. The court has no choice but to appoint you and Beatrice as permanent co-conservators and executors of the 2019 testament."
"And the bonds?" Beatrice whispered eagerly, pulling Albright by the sleeve. "The five million in liquid assets?"
"In our accounts before the banking close at three o'clock," Albright murmured discreetly, adjusting his gold cufflinks. "Fiona, make sure you keep the camera running when we enter the courtroom. Public pressure ensures Harrison won't ask unnecessary questions. A million witnesses online make an elected judge move very quickly."
"Don't worry, Marcus," Fiona smiled, her teeth glistening in the morning light. "My stream has 1.8 million concurrents right now. The whole internet wants to see the monster fall."
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The courthouse bells chimed 8:30 A.M. The heavy bronze double doors swung inward, and the Vance family, flanked by their predatory attorney, marched up the steps like conquerors entering a fallen city.
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