Stella Accused Of Locker Room Sabotage — Then Security Camera Footage Exposes The Real Culprit
Chapter 9 — Brooke Tries To Shift The Blame — Then Marcus Shuts Down The False Accusation
Marcus did not even blink at the clumsy fabrication.
He tapped the touchscreen interface on the wall monitor.
The timeline scrubber slid backward by three minutes.
“Nice try,” Marcus said.
He pressed play on the second sequence.
This new file pulled from the overhead wide-angle lens mounted near the facility entrance.
It displayed the exterior courtyard and the inner hallway simultaneously in split-screen mode.
The timestamp in the corner read 8:11 AM.
Brooke walked through the double doors from the parking lot.
She was wearing the exact same warm-up jacket with a distinct tear on the left cuff.
Her face was clearly visible in high definition.
No one else was anywhere near her.
“That’s me coming inside,” Brooke muttered, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“I was just returning some borrowed training equipment.”
Marcus shook his head slowly.
He tapped another icon on the screen to pull up the inventory log for the storage bin.
“You didn’t borrow any equipment from that bin, Brooke,” Marcus stated.
He zoomed in on the side pocket of Brooke’s heavy gear bag resting on the floor.
“Let’s look at what you brought out with you.”
On the monitor, the camera angle shifted to follow Brooke walking away from Stella’s ruined locker.
She was holding something bulky inside her pack.
The strap of Stella’s pro-grade skate bag was visibly dangling from the zipper.
Brooke tried to step backward toward the locker room exit.
Coach Vance blocked the doorway with his broad frame.
“Empty the bag, Brooke,” Coach Vance commanded.
Brooke squeezed her eyes shut.
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and refused to move.
Marcus reached down and unzipped the front pocket of Brooke’s bag.
He pulled out Stella’s original pro-grade skates.
The bright neon laces that Brooke had claimed were missing were tucked neatly inside the boot.
Brooke stared at the skates resting in Marcus’s hands.
Her lower lip trembled.
The defiant expression vanished entirely from her face.
“I just wanted the starting spot,” Brooke sobbed, her voice breaking completely.
“Everyone knew Stella was going to take the position.”
Coach Vance looked down at the ruined equipment and then back at Brooke.
“You thought sabotaging her gear would get you on the tournament roster?” Coach Vance asked, his voice dead flat.
Brooke nodded once, staring at the floor.
She reached out a trembling hand toward her jacket pocket.
Her fingers closed around a folded piece of paper she had been trying to hide.
