Chapter 4

The following morning, I dragged myself to the office.

The managing partner called me in, his expression grim.

"Harper, I saw what's happening online. The firm's phones are ringing off the hook, and it's disrupting our paying clients. You need to handle this immediately."

I parted my lips to explain, but against the raging tide of public fury, any explanation felt utterly powerless.

Back at my desk, I opened the neighborhood SnapChat group. It was buzzing with excitement.

Brenda was basically doing a victory lap.

"Everyone! Did you see Twitter? People know the truth!"

"@Harper, hey hotshot lawyer, the whole country knows who you really are now! Let's see you act cocky after this!"

Joe followed right after: "Lawyer Harper, it's not too late to turn back. Agree to our terms, sign the contract, and we'll go online to clear your name right now!"

A few neighbors who had stayed quiet before started chiming in:

"Harper, just swallow your pride. Brenda and the others were just pushed to the brink."

"Yeah, it's just a piece of paper. You're so skilled, you'll definitely win anyway, what are you scared of?"

"If you don't sign, public opinion... well, it's hard for us to defend you out there..."

Reading their messages, the last ounce of hesitation in my heart vanished.

Feed a stray dog too much, and it forgets who feeds it; treat people too well, and they take your kindness for weakness.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out a final response in the chat:

"Given my limited abilities, I cannot meet the expectation of guaranteeing court victories on top of free legal advice. In order to comply with professional standards and prevent unnecessary misunderstandings, all pro bono legal services are terminated effective immediately."

After I hit send, the chat went dead for a few seconds.

Then, like ice water dropped into boiling oil, it completely exploded.

[Lawyer Harper! No, wait! We don't have to sign the agreement!]

[Exactly! Brenda and Joe started that mess, we never forced you!]

[You can't just abandon us! My property dispute isn't finished yet!]

[Without your guidance, I don't even know how to write this arbitration paperwork!]

My phone began vibrating violently. Calls from familiar and unfamiliar numbers poured in back-to-back.

Their tones had flipped entirely—from earlier doubt and complaints to frantic pleading, some even choking back tears.

"Harper, it was all their fault! You can't just drop us!"

"The contract is canceled! We swear we won't bring it up again! Please keep helping us!"

"Where are we supposed to find a pro bono advisor as good as you if you leave?!"

Watching the names flash across the screen and hearing the panic in their voices, I felt no pity. I almost wanted to laugh.

If you knew this day would come, why act like that in the first place?

I muted the group, blocked several harassing callers, and began planning how to end this farce once and for all.

The partner was right: I had to put this out fast.

Giving in? Absolutely not an option.

Since they used public outrage to burn me at the stake, I would use the exact same tool to expose the truth.

I created a fresh social media account under the handle "Harper Legal Aid."

Then, I posted my first update:

[Tonight at 8:00 PM, I will go live to fully explain the termination of my pro bono legal services and share relevant chat logs. Truth clears itself.]

The post hit like a boulder dropped into a calm lake, creating massive ripples instantly.

Doubters, trolls, drama-seekers, people telling me to hurry up... comments surged by the thousands.

Good. The attention was right where I needed it.