Page 61 of Silent Home

Finn tried to move in, but Morrison rolled, keeping Greenwald between them."The scene isn't finished!"he screamed as he rose again, dragging Greenwald with him."They have to see!They have to understand!"

Sheila saw Greenwald's face starting to turn purple.They had seconds, not minutes.Her hands found the wire, trying to work her fingers between it and Greenwald's throat, but Morrison's grip was too tight.

Then she felt something else—a second wire, the one that had originally bound Greenwald's hands.It had tangled around Morrison's legs during the struggle.

"Finn!"she called."The wire!"

He saw it too.As Morrison focused on strangling Greenwald, Finn grabbed the loose wire and pulled hard.Morrison's legs went out from under him, breaking his grip just enough.Sheila wrenched the gaffer's wire away from Greenwald's throat as the director rolled free, gasping for air.

Morrison tried to scramble up, reaching for another piece of wire, but Finn was already on him.The cinematographer fought like a man possessed, screaming about ruined scenes and perfect moments, but Finn got him face-down on the floor.

"It's all wrong!"Morrison shouted as Finn cuffed him."The blocking, the lighting—none of it works!We have to reset!We have to—"

"James Morrison," Sheila cut him off, "you're under arrest for the murders of Jessica Gregory, Thomas Rivera, and Sarah Martinez."She helped Greenwald sit up, checking the wounds on his throat."And the attempted murder of Bradley Greenwald."

EPILOGUE

Four days after Morrison's arrest, Sheila stood in what remained of his editing studio, now thoroughly processed by CSU.The room felt smaller without all the equipment, but no less unsettling.Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, catching dust motes where camera rigs had once stood.

She turned slowly, taking in the scene.Hard drives and memory cards filled dozens of evidence boxes—Morrison had documented everything obsessively.Not just the murders, but years of festival politics, backroom deals, promised roles that went to other actors.It was all evidence, in his eyes, that these people were hacks who had no real appreciation for art, no sense of what acting was all about.

Which was why he'd set out to show them what acting ought to be—or his own twisted version, at any rate.

The festival itself would never be the same.Carl Rider had resigned as director after the full scope of the corruption emerged.The evidence on Morrison's hard drives went far beyond just the festival.Years of meticulous documentation showed how roles were essentially auctioned off to the highest bidder, with talent a secondary consideration to financial connections.Email threads revealed producers discussing which actors' families could provide the most funding.Spreadsheets tracked "donations" that mysteriously preceded casting decisions.

More disturbing were the recordings of private conversations—studio executives candidly discussing how to keep talented but unconnected actors from questioning the system.Morrison had captured it all, his cameras hidden in offices and green rooms across multiple venues.Some of the biggest names in independent film appeared in his footage, their masks dropping as they discussed maintaining what they called "the natural order of things."

"Listen to this," Finn said, playing one of Morrison's audio files.A festival board member's voice filled the room: "Of course Sarah Martinez understood the role better.That's not the point.We need someone bankable, someone whose family can help fund the next three productions.Art is lovely, but art doesn't pay the bills."

Sheila moved to another box of evidence, this one containing financial records."He tracked every deal, every compromise.Going back years."She pulled out a folder labeled 'Winter Palace—Financing Structure.'Inside were documents showing how Claire Montgomery's family had essentially purchased her role through a complex web of production investments.

"Jessica must have found some of this," Finn said."That's what was in the envelope she was carrying."

"Which made her dangerous."Sheila spread more documents across the desk."She wasn't just a rejected actor—she was a witness to systemic corruption.And Morrison..."

"Turned her into art," Finn finished grimly.

The fallout was spreading beyond Coldwater.Three major studios had already suspended relationships with producers implicated in Morrison's evidence.The Sundance Film Festival announced an emergency review of their selection processes.Trade publications were running exposés about the "pay-to-play" culture Morrison had documented.

"Look at this," Sheila said, opening another file."Bradley Greenwald knew about all of it.Morrison has footage of him explaining to investors how the system works—which roles are actually available versus which ones are already promised to people with connections."

"That's why Morrison targeted him for the final performance," Finn said."He saw Greenwald as a gatekeeper of corruption."

Charlotte Davis had provided a formal statement about the costume records, detailing how certain actors would be fitted for roles before auditions even began.Her documentation, combined with Morrison's surveillance, painted a picture of a system designed to maintain power in the hands of a select few while creating the illusion of artistic merit.

"The whole thing was theater," Sheila said quietly."Just not the kind anyone wanted to admit."

Marcus Harlow had come forward too, describing how sound department records were routinely altered to hide late-night meetings between producers and wealthy investors.Even Paul Wilson's legitimate surveillance system had inadvertently captured evidence of the corruption Morrison became obsessed with exposing.

"Here's what I don't understand," Finn said, studying another monitor."Morrison had enough evidence to expose everything legally.Why resort to murder?"

"Because it wasn't ultimately about the corruption, not for Morrison."Sheila gestured at the carefully organized hard drives."He thought of himself as an artist, first and foremost, not a whistleblower.In his mind, he was giving these people the roles they'd been denied, creating perfect moments—performances untainted by commerce or politics."

She picked up Morrison's production notes."Look how he describes each murder: 'Jessica's vulnerability finally achieving its pure form.''Thomas transcending artificial limitations.''Sarah's character work reaching its natural conclusion.'"

The festival's sponsors were rapidly withdrawing, their carefully crafted statements unable to hide their panic at being associated with such widespread corruption.Local businesses that had depended on festival revenue were already feeling the impact.The Coldwater Theater stood empty, its screens dark, its future uncertain.

"Morrison's confession mentions something called 'The Collection,'" Finn said, checking his notes."But we haven't found it yet."

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