Part 8
The fallout from the courtroom victory was immediate and messy, just as Michael had predicted.
When Diane realized the legal system wouldn't help her son steal my house, she turned to the only weapon she had left: social leverage.
On Thursday evening, while I was sitting with my dad helping him cut his chicken dinner, my phone began to buzz continuously. It was an avalanche of text messages and notifications from mutual friends, old college acquaintances, and even Travis’s extended family members.
Diane had posted a long, tearful statement on her social media pages.
She claimed that I had used my position as a nurse to manipulate my sick father into buying a house out from under Travis, and that I was now using "hidden cameras" to spy on her family and drive her son into poverty. She called me cold, calculating, and unfit for my profession.
"Natalie?" Dad asked, lowering his fork as he saw my face pale in the light of the screen. "What's wrong? Is it Travis again?"
"It's just his mother being loud, Dad," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Don't worry about it. Eat your dinner."
But my hands were shaking. I called Michael immediately.
"Don't say a word publicly," Michael warned me over the phone. "That's exactly what she wants. She wants you to get into a mud-slinging match online so she can use your words against you in the final divorce settlement. Let me handle it."
The next morning, Michael sent a formal cease-and-desist letter to Diane’s residence, accompanied by a copy of the security footage from the kitchen party—specifically the audio clip where Diane told the room that I had a "strangest organization system" and that the house would "finally feel like a Brooks home once Travis settled it properly."
The letter stated that if the posts were not removed within two hours, we would file a public defamation lawsuit and enter the full video—including the footage of Jenna in her bathrobe—into the public record for anyone to see.
The posts vanished within twenty minutes.
An hour later, I received a text from an unknown number. It was Jenna.
May you like
"Natalie, please don't release that video," the message read. "I didn't know Travis told his mother the house was his. I didn't know about your dad. I’m sorry. I’ve broken up with him."
I didn't reply. I blocked the number and went back to work.
