Jared stood frozen on the stage, his hands still clutching the fallen metal microphone stand.

“Jared Harlan,” Detective Miller said, his voice carrying clearly over the fading audio recording.

“You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit aggravated assault, domestic abuse, and medical coercion.”

Jared’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

His polished black leather shoes slid slightly on the dusty wood of the stage.

“This is a misunderstanding,” Jared finally managed to say, his voice thin and high.

“That tape is doctored, and you know it.”

Sandra Vance stepped toward the edge of the stage, looking up at him.

“We have the original digital files, Mr. Harlan,” she said.

“We also have Dr. Joseph Silas in custody at Saint Jude’s Private Hospital.”

“He has already admitted to administering unauthorized sedatives to your wife.”

A loud murmur broke out among the shareholders sitting in the front row.

I saw Arthur Pendelton, the senior board member, put his face in his hands.

Two troopers climbed the wooden steps to the stage.

One of them grabbed Jared’s right arm and pulled it behind his back.