Chapter 8 - WHISPERS ACROSS THE MISSISSIPPI
The media firestorm erupted by mid-week. Reporters gathered outside the gates of the Minnetonka estate, shouting questions at foundation staff. Donors called Summit Development with anxious inquiries, threatening to pause their pledge funding for the upcoming housing expansion.
At home, Stella kept the environment serene and protected. She cooked dinner with her mother, helped Hazel with her third-grade science project, and read bedtime stories to Paige.
"Mommy," Hazel asked quietly one night, looking up from her drawing pad. "Are the news people outside saying bad things about you?"
Stella sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, gently tucking a strand of soft hair behind Hazel's ear. "Sometimes people who are sad and bitter tell stories because they want attention, sweetie. But do you know what happens to stories built on lies when the sun comes up?"
"They melt?" six-year-old Paige chimed in from her bed.
"Exactly, Paige," Stella smiled, kissing both of her daughters' foreheads. "They melt away completely. Tomorrow, Mommy is going to turn on the sun."
Downstairs in the study, Stella and Marcus spent the night finalizing their counter-strike dossier. Marcus pulled up a live tracking feed of Richard Sterling’s stock portfolio.
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"Sterling shorted Summit Development’s public subsidiary stock three days ago," Marcus explained. "He’s banking on the revenue audit to crash your stock value so he can buy out your commercial leases in Minneapolis."
"He underestimated my balance sheet," Stella said, her eyes flashing with iron determination. "And he severely underestimated how much I value my daughters' peace. We aren't just going to clear the Foundation’s name, Marcus. We are going to wipe Sterling Capital off the Midwest market."
