The code number had been branded on my skin when I turned ten. Even as the skin stretched and grew, the brand was still there, ugly but readable.

It wasn't a tattoo, but an unsightly brand. Each character was made by a sweltering branding iron pressed into my skin while I was held in place by the guards.

Fortunately, we had escaped before Mark could get his brand, marring his skin for life with a painful reminder of what we'd been; Dispensables.

Nathaniel was quiet. Too quiet. My heart beat in my ears. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. A twisted tangle of shame and guilt and humiliation settled in the pit of my stomach like a spiked rock.

Nathaniel blinked, his eyes still fixed on where the brand would have been. A shaky breath slipped past my lips. I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed the knot in my throat.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry, Daphne.

Nathaniel knew about parts of my previous life, of course, but having him see it with his own eyes was mortifying beyond measure.

My hands fisted the material of my tank top as I pushed through the tears. Nathaniel's footsteps moved closer, slow and steady. But I didn't look up. I didn't dare look up. I wasn't ready for what I could possibly see in his eyes.

A gentle touch on my chin. I opened my eyes and looked up, biting my lip hard to keep it from trembling. Meeting his dark eyes, my lungs expanded with a relieved breath when I found nothing demeaning in his gaze.

He smiled slightly, his finger brushing my cold cheek with a tenderness I had once believed no man was capable of.

Despite my best efforts, one tear managed to escape, trailing down my cheek. Nathaniel sighed, brushing the treacherous drop away. "Now, none of that," he murmured.

He let go of my face and leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead, then pulling away with a small smile.

My lips parted, and my heart skittered. No one had ever done that before. The kiss felt purely reverent, gentle, completely untainted, free of any hint of lust or desire.

I had been stripped of so many things, so many firsts. But right then I realized that it was okay, there were so many firsts I could still live and experience. And I had a strong feeling this man, who looked at me like I was a precious jewel, would play a big part in many of them.

"Alright?"

"Alright," I said, my voice a scratchy whisper.

Nathaniel retrieved the book I had been eyeing and gave it to me, then left the library. My entire body loosened, relieved that I wouldn't have to speak about it now. I settled into one corner of the library, tucking my legs under me on the couch.

The book was good, but I ended up curled around myself, fighting to keep my eyes open. A battle I realized I'd lost when I woke up in my bed, sweating heavily.

I groaned, my eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. It was already night time, and I was alone in my bed. Disoriented, I sat up. Where was Mark?

Rolling out of bed, I closed my eyes tightly against a wave of dizziness, taking deep breaths until I was steady again. My skin pebbled. I put on a cardigan and ventured out to the living room.

Nathaniel was on the couch, speaking on the phone, with files and a computer on the coffee table in front of him. The spotlights in the kitchen and the TV were the only lights on.

He swiftly wrapped up his phone call when he saw me and stood up. Meeting me halfway, he put his hand on my forehead and hissed. "You're burning again."

"Where's Mark?" I mumbled. He put an arm around my shoulder and led me to the couch.

"He's in the library. Doing homework, I think. He checked on you when he came from school but you were out of it."

"Oh."

I blinked lazily as I sat on the couch. Nathaniel crouched in front of me with a worried frown. "I'll get you another pill and something to eat. Do you want to go back to your room or stay here?"

I leaned back on the couch. "I'll stay here, if you don't mind. I slept too much today."

He disappeared into the hallway, then came back minutes later with a blanket and my medication. He draped the blanket over me, then got me a glass of water to down the pill.

The water cooled down my throat, waking me up. I caught myself watching Nathaniel move around the kitchen and looked away. Setting the glass on the table, my gaze hooked on one of the files.

I frowned, leaning forward for a better look. A picture of a man was stapled to the upper left corner of a document. I picked up the document. As the man's features registered to my brain, the water in my stomach came back up.

I was on my feet, rushing to the bathroom before I could think. The memory of that face so close to mine, over mine, made bile rise to my throat.

I reached the toilet in time to throw up. My throat burned and I heaved, my insides clenching painfully. The sound of footsteps in my roaring ears, and then Nathaniel was kneeling beside me. He pulled my hair away and rubbed my back. I retched until tears streamed down my cheeks, breathing heavily.

After a few minutes of dry-heaving, I sat back and accepted the wet towel from Nathaniel. Wiping my face, I scrunched my nose at the foul smell and acidic taste in my mouth.

"What's that?" Nathaniel asked, looking down at my fisted hand. The sheet of paper was clenched in my hand, deforming the face of which I did not want to think.

Nathaniel gently pried my fingers open and took the document with a confused frown. I stood up and rinsed my mouth over and over again. The taste only improved a little. I might as well brush my teeth.

The minty toothpaste refreshed my breath and settled my stomach. I watched Nathaniel through the mirror. Standing up, he glanced from the picture to me.

"So you... know him?" he asked. His eyes looked darker even under the bright light of the bathroom.  Angry. He was angry. He must have pieced it together.

I rinsed my mouth and put the toothbrush in its cup. Turning to face him, I leaned against the counter. "I do."

I gripped the counter, the cold marble digging into my hands.

"Son of a..." Nathaniel murmured, scrunching up the sheet of paper.

"How do you know him?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"He's running for Mayor," he said. I blinked, surprised into silence.

Then I laughed.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face. I couldn't help it. A mayor. A freaking mayor. How ridiculous! The thought of that disgusting pig in a position of power made me realize how truly screwed up the world was. Disbelief, anger and disgust filled me to the point of hysteria.

Nathaniel just watched me with raised brows. He sat on the edge of the bathtub with a sigh, waiting for me to finish, and looked at me with conflicting feelings of amusement and unconcealed fury for that man.

After getting hold of myself, I splashed water on my face. That was cathartic. I faced Nathaniel again.

"That was refreshing," he said. I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. Everything was just too ridiculous that it took my mind off the horrible memories I had with that sick bastard.

"Very," I sighed out. "He's really going to be the mayor?"

"He's a candidate," Nathaniel said, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his ankles.

I snorted. "Some candidate."

"So he was...?" Nathaniel said hesitantly and I nodded.

"He was a client, a regular," I said, rubbing at a spot on my ribs where I still had a scar from one of my times with him. A shudder rolled through my body. "He's sick. There's no way that man is right in the head."

Nathaniel sighed heavily. "This world is sick."

He had no idea...

"What are you doing with his file anyway?" I asked.

"I have files on all the candidates. I was looking through them." He shrugged. "Gotta know who's in the picture in the future."

"Mhm." I nodded.

"Come on." Nathaniel stood up. "Let's go eat something. Mark must be starving, too."

He held out his hand, and his face softened with relief when I immediately put my hand in his.

Mark was glad to see me up and about. We had a quiet dinner. Nathaniel was lost in his thoughts the entire time. But I knew him enough to tell he was still very mad.

More than mad, he was probably frustrated. But what could he do anyway? It wasn't like there was proof of that bastard's actions.

I barely touched my food. The shadow feeling of metal against my ribs stole my appetite.

After dinner, Nathaniel cleaned up while I changed the sheets so Mark could sleep on a fresh bed. Mark brushed his teeth and waited for me, scuffing his feet on the carpet.

I tucked him in and sat by his side. The bedside lamp light brought out faint hints of gold in his hair. He watched me with keen blue eyes. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine," I replied, brushing his brown curls back. "I slept well today, and I took my medication. I'll be as good as new tomorrow."

I hesitated. I wanted to suggest we sleep in different rooms. I was well aware he should start having his own, but it still didn't feel right. Especially since I was sick, there was a possibility Mark would agree to sleep away even if he didn't want to.

I waited until Mark dozed off to leave. Nathaniel was in the kitchen, his back muscles rolled under the t-shirt as he moved around. He put a mug of steaming tea in front of me when I sat at the island.

"Do you want soup? Or juice? You didn't eat much," he said.

"No. Just tea, thank you."

The smell of honey and lemon drifted to my nose. I took a sip. The hot drink slid smoothly down my throat and warmed my chest. I wrapped my arms around the mug. Nathaniel washed his hands and sat beside me with a cup of coffee.

"Aren't you going to ask?" I asked.

Nathaniel took a sip of his coffee. "Do you want me to?"

I didn't really want to talk about any of it. But I had thought that seeing the brand would stir up more questions. My finger traced the rim of my mug.

"Not really," I mumbled.

"Then I won't," he said. My eyes flickered to him, surprised.

His lips twitched up. "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Earlier I said that we'll talk when you're no longer sick. I take that back. You don't have to tell me anything if you really don't want to. I'm sorry. I was being selfish, looking for answers without thinking of how difficult it might be for you."

Selfish.

The word rang loudly in my head. An accusation. Was I being selfish in trying to keep Mark safe even if it meant dozens of others were living in hell?

I was. I was selfish. I was as culpable as the ones committing those horrid crimes, because I knew about them and I was doing nothing to stop them.

Should I go to the police? But even they were involved.

Should I tell Nathaniel? But all he could do was report it... Again, the authorities would be involved. More than likely, it would be swiped under the rug and we would be found.

So then should I keep quiet? How could I keep living knowing the people I left behind were still going through everything I had gone through and more? How did I live all these months with that knowledge on my conscience?

I guess I'm no better than the monsters I'm afraid of...

The heavy weight of indecision hunched my shoulders. I sighed. "Thank you," I mumbled to Nathaniel.

He nodded, his piercing eyes seemed to look right into me.

I ended up on the couch, watching TV. I had thought I slept too much, but soon the images blurred and my eyes grew heavy. I surrendered to sleep, snuggled under the blanket in a corner of the couch.

I woke up to a hushed voice. Groggily, I realized Nathaniel was speaking on the phone, trying to keep his voice quiet. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. My drugged up mind didn't even consider that possibility as Nathaniel's voice cleared up.

"...a little fever, it went up earlier again." He paused. I heard the sound of the coffee maker. He was making coffee again. "Yeah, she's good now. Listen, Chris, that's not why I called. I need to talk to you face to face. Can you come by tomorrow?"

Chris...

"We need to talk in person. I'll tell you tomorrow." Nathaniel grumbled, irritated. "Fine. It's about Granger. He's running for mayor."

I stiffened, my brain sobering up in an instant.

"There's something... I won't tell you what it is, but we need to talk about him. Drag Alister with you, he can be quite resourceful... Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then."

My mind buzzed with too many questions to go back to sleep. When I felt Nathaniel's gaze on me, I forced my breathing to even out and closed my eyes. Thankfully, he couldn't see my face from where he was in the kitchen.

What was he going to tell Chris? I was certain he wouldn't tell him my secret, what little he knew of it.  But still, why would they want to talk about that man?

Hearing Nathaniel's footsteps approach, I decided to quit playing asleep and sat up.

"You looked too peaceful, I didn't have the heart to wake you," he sat on the coffee table in front of me, with one cup of coffee in his hand. The other touched my forehead. He hummed. "Do you feel better?"

"Mhm," I mumbled, leaning my head into his touch when his hand slid down to my cheek. "Better."

He smiled softly, brushing his thumb across my skin. Staring into his dark gaze, a familiar sense of safety soothed my heart. No words were uttered, but Nathaniel's eyes spoke volumes.

I relaxed. The questions buzzing in my head stopped. I trusted Nathaniel with my life. He wouldn't do anything to put us at risk, so I just let his phone call slip out of my mind.

One less thing to worry about. The guilt was enough.

****           **********         ****

I woke up much better the following morning.

Nathaniel was not pleased in the slightest to find me cooking breakfast. He insisted I sit down because 'Daphne, there's no damn way you're better when It's not even been twenty four hours since you passed out from a fever'.

I complied and sat down at the island, while he picked up making breakfast. Mark was soon up, rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet.

"Where did you sleep?" he asked, perching on the stool beside me.

"I slept in the other guest room," I said, watching his reaction. He nodded, his features relaxing slightly in relief. I had been hesitant to let him sleep alone, but I was afraid I would wake him up with another fever induced nightmare.

I bit the inside of my cheek. It had to be done at some point. "Mark? Do you want to have your own room?"

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spied Nathaniel subtly glancing our way. I had discussed the matter with Nathaniel before, and he told me to feel free to use the other guest bedroom. But I wasn't ready to leave Mark on his own yet. For his benefit or mine, I didn't know.

Mark cocked his head as he looked at me. "The guest room, next to our room?"

I nodded and he looked down at the table in a small thoughtful frown. I smiled. "You don't have to if-"

"Okay," he said, taking me by surprise.

I blinked. "Um...Okay?"

"Yes. It's just us, right?" He looked between Nathaniel and I. "It's just the three of us in the house, so..."

I leaned back, surprised. He trusted Nathaniel. I did notice he wasn't as wary of Nathaniel as he'd been at first. But this was a big step, one even I wasn't entirely comfortable with.

I didn't like having Mark out of my reach. Even when he had first started school, it was difficult for me to leave him.

I had felt like I was in one of those scenes where the mother drops her child in school for the first day, and the child goes hysterical for being apart from his mother.

Only in our case, I was the fussing child.

My nerves had been eating at me the whole day until I had picked him up again when classes ended.

"Okay," I said now, feeling off-kilter. "Okay so... um... you want to keep that room and I'll move to the one next door?"

"Okay." Mark shrugged, his eyes focusing on the plate Nathaniel set in front of him.

I shook my head quickly. Well, that was easier than I expected. Maybe it was me the whole time? I was the one who didn't want to be apart from Mark.

I didn't appreciate Nathaniel's amused smile. I narrowed my eyes at him, and his smile widened. Accepting the plate he handed me with a grumpy thank you, I shoved food down my throat, eating away my emotions.

Claire dropped by with Cecile to take Mark to school. She hugged me and hovered around me like a worried mother hen while we waited for Mark to get ready. Nathaniel stocked the fridge with the containers of food she'd brought. When I told her I was fine to go to work, she said, "there's no way you're alright! You fainted not even twenty four hours ago!"

Siblings, indeed.

After Claire left with the kids, Nathaniel and I hung out in the living room.

I curled in my corner of the couch, snuggled under a blanket with a mug of tea. The sun played hide and seek with the world, and the light filtering in through the French doors lightened and darkened as clouds danced in the sky. The fireplace cracked, joining the noise of Nathaniel's fingers on the keyboard of his laptop.

"So, when are you moving to your new room?" Nathaniel asked, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Oh, shut up." I huffed. "He just took it so well."

He hummed, glancing my way before focusing on the screen of his computer. "You didn't expect it to be that easy, did you?"

"Yeah." I sighed, taking a sip of my tea.

The sunlight dimmed considerably, and minutes later the pitter-patter of rain drowned my ears.

I yawned, putting my mug on the table. Snuggling deeper under the blanket, I tucked my feet under me until all that was visible was my head.

The sound of the rain, the keyboard and the fireplace made me drowsy. I stretched on the couch the best I could with Nathaniel on the other end, my eyes lost in the swaying flames.

Nathaniel shifted by my feet. He put his laptop on the coffee table, took my feet and put them on his lap. I stretched with a contented sigh, my body relaxing, then promptly fell asleep.

I was floating. Warmth surrounded me, and a familiar musky smell filled my nose. I murmured something unintelligible, snuggling closer to the heat.

"Shh, just sleep, love. I'll wake you up at lunch." The familiar voice made me feel safe. A gentle pressure on my forehead, then a cushiony surface replaced the warmth.

A peaceful, dreamless sleep. I hadn't had one of those ever since Mark started school.

I woke up to the sound of Nathaniel's voice.

"Daphne? Lunch is ready. Come on."

I groaned, blinking my eyes open to meet his smiling gaze. I stretched my arms up. That was a great nap.

Sitting up, I rubbed my face. I frowned at him, my voice raspy from sleep. "Lunch?"

Nathaniel chuckled and stood up. "Yes, come on."

My body no longer felt as though it was run over by a train then dumped from the roof of a skyscraper. I felt very well rested.

Nathaniel was clearing the table when I joined him.

"Did you have guests?" I asked.

"Chris and Alister were here," he said, putting the empty coffee cups in the dishwasher.

I paused for a second, then sat on my stool at the island. I'd been so out of it, I didn't even hear them. "Oh?"

He took a container from the fridge. "Chicken casserole. Good for you?"

"Sure," I nodded eagerly, my mouth already watering. He popped the casserole in the oven. Claire's cooking was the best.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang twice. It was Claire.

"Claire, we're still loaded with food. It's too much," Nathaniel grumbled while Claire put a couple of containers and juice bottles on the island.

"Oh, hush, Nathaniel! You're not cooking them enough! That's probably why the poor girl collapsed!"

Nathaniel rolled his eyes while I stifled a laugh. But I swallowed my smile when Claire turned to me.

"And you, young lady, are in deep trouble. I knew something was off with you the past week. You've been unusually tired, and you didn't eat enough! You should've told me you weren't feeling well before you fell sick!"

"Sorry?" I said. Nathaniel coughed suspiciously, sitting next to me. I jabbed my elbow in his side. 

Claire eyed Nathaniel and I, then shook her head. She stacked the containers in the fridge, glancing over her shoulder at me.

"So, there's this chess competition organized by an association my mother had co-founded. The prize is very considerable, and I was thinking Mark could participate?" she said. "It's going to be a good opportunity for him to test his skills, maybe try and see if he wants to take competitive chess more seriously, if he likes it?"

She closed the fridge and turned, her eyes lit up. "What do you think?"

While her enthusiasm was contagious, my mind immediately went to the press and media attention those competitions garnered.

Sadness, anger and indecision flared up in me as I thought about the prospect of not being able to do whatever we wanted for fear of being found. As long as the House and the people behind it existed, would we ever be able to lead a normal life?

I didn't want Mark's life to be that way. I didn't want our lives to be limited because of our fears. My fears.

Nathaniel must have noticed my hesitation. He subtly redirected the flow of the conversation away from that topic.

We had lunch, Claire's light chatter was a welcome change to the usual calm of the apartment.

That night, I laid in bed with a clear head and a heavy heart, hoping for a sign to push me in the right direction, to help me make the right decision.

To tell or not to tell.

****    **********     ****

"Kellian, son, stop crowding the poor boy."

"But Dad! That's so cool!" Kellian called back in awe. His brown eyes wide with wonder as he looked over Mark's shoulder.

Mark was tapping away on his tablet, playing a pair matching memory game. He was sitting on the couch with Kellian and Cecile on either side of him.

"He gets them all right in one go!" Kellian said. Mark scooted a bit away from him when Kellian pressed against him. For all his progress, Physical contact with others was still difficult for Mark.

Mark gave Kellian the tablet to play his turn. Cecile perked up. "I want to play, too!"

"Okay. After Kellian," Mark said. "We'll take turns."

"Okay!" Cecile grinned.

It was a Sunday, a few days after my fever. Chris and Kellian, along with Claire, Craig and her children came over. The apartment felt pleasantly crowded. I wondered if that was what having a big family felt like.

Elijah and Evan, Claire's twin boys, were doing their homework on the dining table, while the adults hung out in the kitchen. The TV was on, but no one paid it any mind.

"So he liked his school?" Craig asked in a low voice, sitting between Claire and Chris at the island.

"He did," I said, taking out mugs from the cupboard.

Nathaniel snorted. "Mark is doing fine," he said. "Daphne is the one having a difficult time adjusting to his absence."

"That's not true," I mumbled, glaring at Nathaniel. He poured coffee in the mugs, grinning at me.

"Don't worry, Daphne. You're not the only one," Craig said, shooting his wife an amused glance. "When Claire dropped the twins at daycare for the very first time, all three of them were crying. She was sobbing hysterically all the way back-"

Claire pinched her husband's cheek, silencing him. Chris and Nathaniel teased her about the incident. I sipped on my coffee, leaning against the counter.

Claire and Craig had so much youthfulness in them, I found it hard to believe they were turning forty soon. Sometimes they acted like adolescent lovebirds, while at others they argued like an old married couple.

My eyes flickered to the TV.

I did a double take.

The man on the screen looked familiar. Granger. That sick bastard who was running for Mayor.

"Hey, that's Granger, right?" Claire said, turning in her seat to look at the TV. I blinked my eyes away from the man's droopy brown ones. "Turn the volume up, quick."

Nathaniel did. Words floated to my ears and in front of my eyes. He was eliminated from the mayor position race. An ongoing investigation about money laundering. Rumors of cheating on his wife.

Well, I knew for sure one of those rumors was true.

I shook my head in disbelief, taking a big gulp of my coffee. Looking away from the TV, I caught Nathaniel and Chris exchanging a look.

My heart thumped. Nathaniel's eyes met mine in a second that told me all I needed to know. He did it. He was responsible for this.

I put my mug down and excused myself. Going into my room, I left the door cracked open behind me.  I stood by the window, watching the clouds in the sky, dark and angry, the promise of a storm on the way.

A few minutes later, Nathaniel came in. He stood beside me, quiet.

"Did you have any hand in it?"

"In what?"

Sighing, I gave him a long look. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that Granger dropped out of the race only a few days after I told you about him? A few days after you spoke to Chris and Alister about him?"

He leaned toward me until his face was level with mine and smiled. "How did you know I talked to Alister and Chris about him?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You and I both know I was awake when you were speaking on the phone."

"Eavesdropping is a bad habit," he said, tweaking my nose.

I pulled my face away. Wrinkling my nose, I sniffed. "You don't really care. If you did, you would've talked in your office or your room."

"True," he said, leaning against the window. His expression grew serious. "You're not upset, are you?"

"Why would I be? Good riddance."

He smiled, his hand reaching out to take mine, eyes looking down where his thumb brushed circles on my knuckles. "Good."

A frown tugged down my brows. Questions plagued my mind, but all I could ask was, "how?"

His thumb paused for a second. He shrugged. "Just some digging, a few interested journalists. Nothing extraordinary, really."

I shook my head. Even I knew he was playing it down. A mayor candidate of the largest city in the country shouldn't go down in two days that easily.

I was glad that sorry excuse of a man wouldn't have access to such a position of power. The world could use less men like him.

But deep down, I felt the balance tip off. Guilt and fear. They no longer were neck to neck, the knowledge that Nathaniel could pull off something like this in virtually no time at all made the fear loosen its grip on my heart.

Maybe, just maybe... there's a way out.