Chapter 4 - The Unraveling ThreadsThe law office of Richard Stern, Attorney at Law, was located on the sixteenth floor of a polished glass skyscraper in downtown Columbus. It featured sleek leather furniture, expensive marble flooring, and panoramic views of the city skyline—a stark contrast to the dingy, overcrowded legal aid office where Elena Vance worked.
Marcus and I stepped out of the elevator. I was dressed in a simple, professional black blazer and trousers that Marcus had purchased for me that morning from a department store. I looked composed, formidable, and entirely unlike the broken ex-con my family believed me to be.
We walked up to the reception desk, where a young receptionist sat typing on a computer.
"Good afternoon," I said politely. "I'm here to see Mr. Stern."
"Do you have an appointment, ma'am?" she asked without looking up.
"Tell him Summer Hollis is here to review her 2024 hit-and-run representation file," I replied calmly. "And tell him I brought a representative from the Ohio State Bar Association’s Disciplinary Counsel."
The receptionist’s fingers froze over her keyboard. She looked up, her eyes widening as she took in my unyielding stare. "One moment, please."
She pressed a button on her intercom and whispered frantically into her headset. Less than thirty seconds later, a tall, slicked-back man in an expensive three-piece suit rushed out of an inner office.
Richard Stern had aged in two years; his hair was silvering at the temples, but his arrogant, condescending demeanor remained instantly recognizable.
"Summer?" Stern stammered, attempting to maintain a professional smile as he approached us. "What a... surprising visit. My staff mentioned something about an inquiry?"
"In your office, Stern. Now," Marcus said, stepping forward with an imposing presence that left no room for argument.
Stern swallowed nervously, looking between the two of us, before nodding stiffly and gesturing toward his private office. "Right this way."
We walked into his office, and Stern quickly closed the door behind us, locking it. He hurried behind his large mahogany desk, adopting an authoritative posture.
"Now, see here, Summer," Stern began, crossing his arms. "I understand you were recently released. While I sympathize with how difficult incarceration is, coming into my office with wild threats about the Bar Association is entirely inappropriate. I provided you with competent legal counsel based on the overwhelming evidence presented by the prosecution at the time—"
"You lied to me," I interrupted, standing directly across from his desk. "You told me there was clear traffic camera footage showing me behind the wheel. That was a lie. Municipal cameras on Route 104 don't record interior driver angles at night."
Stern’s eyes darted momentarily toward his desk drawer. "I... I acted upon the preliminary summary provided by the investigating officer—"
"You also took an undisclosed forty thousand dollar 'legal consultation fee' from an LLC called Apex Strategic Investments two days before I signed that plea deal," Marcus interjected, tossing a thick folder of printouts directly onto Stern’s mahogany desk.
Stern stared at the documents on his desk as if they were venomous snakes.
"Where... where did you get those?" Stern gasped, his composure completely evaporating.
"My contacts in financial intelligence are very thorough," Marcus said coolly. "Apex Strategic Investments is a shell company wholly owned by Vanguard Horizon Developments. The exact same company currently trying to purchase Summer’s family estate for pennies on the dollar after driving her father into crippling gambling debts."
Stern’s face drained of all color. He sank back into his leather executive chair, breathing heavily.
"You accepted a bribe from a property developer to deliberately sabotage your own client's defense," I said, leaning over his desk, my voice shaking with righteous fury. "You convinced an innocent woman to plead guilty to a crime her brother committed, sending her to prison for two years, just so a real estate firm could clear the title on a piece of land!"
"I... I didn't know they were going to do that!" Stern stammered, panic completely stripping away his polished attorney persona. "They told me it was just a civil settlement retainer! They said the family had already agreed that you would take the charge to protect your brother! They said everyone was on board!"
"I WASN'T ON BOARD!" I shouted, the pain of two stolen years tearing out of my chest. "I was terrified! I trusted you! You were supposed to protect me!"
"Summer, please!" Stern raised his hands in surrender, sweating profusely through his expensive collar. "If the Bar Association finds out about this, I'll be disbarred! I'll face criminal bribery charges!"
"You're going to face a lot worse than that if you don't start cooperating right now," Marcus warned, leaning down over the desk. "We have the bank transfer records. We have the trust documents. And we have an emergency hearing with Probate Judge Harrison tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM."
Stern buried his head in his hands, trembling. "What do you want?"
"I want the complete, unredacted original case file," I demanded coldly. "Including the original dashcam audio from the police cruiser that responded to the crash site two years ago. The audio you suppressed during discovery."
Stern looked up, his eyes filled with shock. "How do you know about that audio?"
"Because I knew my brother," I said quietly. "Austin always called my phone right after he panicked. And I know his voice was recorded in the background of the police dispatch call when he left his phone line open."
Stern reached into his desk drawer with trembling hands, pulled out a small, metallic key, and walked over to a heavy fireproof safe standing in the corner of his office. He unlocked it, pulled out a thick, yellowed expansion folder, and placed it on the desk.
"Everything is in there," Stern whispered, his voice broken. "The original call logs, the suppressed toxicology reports from the vehicle, and the recorded statement from the delivery driver who saw a young male exiting the driver’s side door after the crash."
I picked up the file, hugging it tightly against my chest. The weight of it felt like the key to my freedom—and the hammer that would crush the conspiracy that had destroyed my life.
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"You're coming to court tomorrow, Stern," I said, looking down at him with utter contempt. "You're going to stand in front of the judge and confess everything you did. Or I walk this file straight into the District Attorney’s office before five o'clock today."
Stern slowly nodded his head, completely defeated. "I'll be there."
