Chapter 6 - The Audience Outside
Before Brandon could formulate another frantic defense, a sharp, rhythmic tapping sound echoed from the front foyer.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
We all turned our heads toward the arched entryway. Standing in the doorway, bathed in the amber light of the late afternoon sun, was a small figure holding a glowing digital tablet.
Ethan.
He hadn't stayed upstairs on the landing. He had walked down the grand staircase, his small shoulders squared, his chin held high with a dignity that made my heart swell with an unbearable mixture of pride and heartbreak. In his small hands, the tablet was active, its screen displaying a live, public interface.
"Ethan, honey," Brandon stammered, taking a desperate step toward his son, his voice dripping with sudden, syrupy falseness. "Thank goodness. Listen to me, buddy. Your mom is upset, she’s confused, she’s saying things that don't make sense—"
"Don't call me buddy," Ethan interrupted, his voice cutting through the tense air like a razor-sharp blade. It wasn't the voice of a scared little boy who cried over a scraped knee; it was cold, steady, and utterly devoid of fear. "I'm not your buddy. And I'm definitely not the spoiled nightmare you told Nicole you were going to dump in a mountain boarding school."
Nicole let out a sharp, hysterical gasp, pressing her hands over her mouth.
Ethan didn't even look at her. He looked directly at his father, his young eyes cold and ancient with disappointment. "While you were downstairs yelling and crying, I didn't just play the video on the living room screen, Dad."
Brandon froze, a muscle ticking violently in his jaw. "What... what did you do?"
Ethan raised the tablet slightly, tapping the screen with a small finger. "I didn't just broadcast it to the living room. When Mom told me to queue up the archive, I realized the house's master smart-routing system was still connected to the neighborhood's public community portal and the local livestream network for our suburb's digital watch group."
The color vanished entirely from Brandon’s face, leaving him looking like a corpse. "No... no, you didn't..."
May you like
"Oh, I did," Ethan said calmly. "Right now, the video of you and Nicole talking about stealing Mom's money, calling me a nightmare, and planning your secret wedding is streaming live on the neighborhood public forum, the local community Facebook group, and every smart display on our street. The livestream has over four thousand live viewers right now. And climbing."
As if on cue, the muffled sound of smartphone notifications began to ping from somewhere outside the house—dozens of sharp, synchronized chimes echoing from the street outside our perimeter gates, followed by the distant murmur of voices and car doors slamming along our usually quiet suburban lane.
