Black Belt Called MMA Champion A Fake In Front Of 200 People — 2s Later, Everyone Regretted It
Chapter 17
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Dorothy Klene sat two rows behind Ruth, turning her own pamphlet over slowly, her reading glasses perched low on her nose. She looked up once toward her daughter sitting beside her, who gave a small shrug that could have meant anything."I don't know, Mama," her daughter said quietly. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have something for your own peace of mind."Dorothy chewed on that for a long moment, then reached for her pen, too.There's something worth understanding here—something that happens in towns just like Cedar Falls more often than people realize: fear makes people move faster than sense does. A person who spent months lying awake, listening for footsteps on the porch, doesn't always stop to read the fine print; they just want the fear to stop. And there is always someone standing nearby, ready to sell them an answer, whether or not that answer is honest.Emily watched this from the back of the room, a stack of folded tablecloths in her arms, and something tightened in her chest. Not anger, exactly—something closer to worry. She'd seen tactics like this before. A long time ago, in a different life, she'd learned to recognize the shape of a con dressed up as confidence. The trouble was, she had no proof of anything, just a feeling. And feelings didn't stop desperate people from signing contracts.She thought briefly of her father and how he used to say the same thing about fighters who talked more than they trained:The loudest promises usually cover the thinnest ground underneath them. She wondered what he'd make of Derek Vance, standing up there in his pressed white gi, selling fear back to the very people who'd already had enough of it.She set the tablecloths down and kept working, telling herself it wasn't her place to say anything more tonight. She'd already learned that lesson once an hour earlier, in front of a room full of people who'd laughed at her for trying to help.She was wrong about one thing, though: it was about to become very much her place.At 8:30, just as the silent auction tables were being cleared, Derek clapped his hands together and addressed the room one more time."Before you all head home tonight," he said, "I want to leave you with one more demonstration. Something real. Something that shows you exactly what a genuine self-defense response looks like under pressure."Pauline glanced at her watch, a small flicker of concern crossing her face. The evening was running long, and the closing ceremony, where the final donation total would be announced, was still ahead of them."Derek, we're a little behind schedule," she said quietly, stepping toward the stage."Two minutes," Derek promised, flashing that same practiced smile. "This is the part everyone remembers."Pauline hesitated, then nodded, stepping back. She trusted him. Cedar Falls trusted him. That was the whole problem.Frank Dunlap raised a hand from the front row, his accountant's instincts still nagging at him. "Is there a waiver for this?" he asked. "In that sort of thing, given his age."