Page 50 of The Girl and the Lies

My eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

The doors slide open as someone comes into the hospital, and I can hear a snippet of the shouting from outside. I catch Tracy’s name and immediately turn my attention to what is unfolding right outside.

“Something is going on out there,” the man who just came in says to the nurse behind the registration desk. “You might want to do something about it.”

I see Ander standing directly in front of the doors with his arms fully outstretched, shifting his weight back and forth as he tries to contain the growing group of people gathering on the sidewalk.

The nurse walks out from behind the desk, and the doors slide open as she steps in front of them. I hear the shouting again, and a few more words get to me. The people are clearly furious.

“What’s happening?” Carla asks.

I put my hands on her shoulders and gently move her backward further away from the doors.

“Stay here,” I say. “I’m going to go find out.”

I walk over to the doors and step out into the pool of light illuminating the entrance in the late-night darkness.

“Where is she?” one of the people demands. “She’s in there, isn’t she?”

“She should be locked up!” another shouts.

“FBI,” I call out over the clamor to get their attention. “Someone tell me what’s going on here.”

“Tracy Ellis should be ashamed of herself,” someone says. “This is her fault, and she’s trying to get even more notoriety with it.”

“All she wants is attention, and it’s disgusting.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“She went live to announce that someone else in her company was attacked.”

“She went live?” I gasp.

“On her social media channel,” someone explains. “She was standing in front of the person’s house showing the police cars and then announced that she was going to go to the hospital. Then she put up a QR code asking for donations. It’s revolting what she’s doing.”

Rage rushes up inside me, and without another word, I turn and go back into the waiting area. Tracy is standing close to Carla, who looks uncomfortable and keeps glancing over at the door. I stalk up to Tracy, who turns to me just as I get within a couple of steps of her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing making a live post about this attack?” I demand.

“You announced Marshall’s attack on a live post?” Carla asks in disbelief. “Who do you think you are?”

“I was gathering prayer warriors to surround you with their light and strength,” Tracy says in a cloying tone meant to manipulate Carla into accepting the massive violation.

“What you did was report a crime that had not been released to the public and make speculations you have no right to make,” I growl. “You didn’t know what happened at that house or who might have been involved. You only assumed that it had something to do with the other attacks and decided that you were going to spread that to whoever would listen, then try to profit off it.”

Tracy raises herself to her full height, seemingly unbothered by my obvious fury. “My viewers frequently ask me how they can support the ministry and ensure I can continue to spread the truth and encourage those finding their path. I don’t see the problem with providing them that avenue.”

“You’re going to take down that video,” I say.

“I don’t have to do anything. I didn’t break any laws by talking about something that was visibly happening right in front of the entire neighborhood. Anyone would have the same grave concerns I did when I heard what was happening. I just decided to be proactive about it and let it be known. People deserve to know what’s happening,” she argues.

“No one deserves to know my business,” Carla says. “Including you.”

“You’re going to take down the video, or Carla will have strong grounds for legal action, which I will actively support,” I tell her. “You’ve already caused enough difficulty.”

Tracy glares at me, but she takes out her phone.

“Fine,” she says.

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