Mark was discharged the next day.

Being back home felt good. The bodyguards sent by Chris swarmed the building. They were everywhere. Around the building, down in the reception hall, on our floor. I wasn't complaining.

Claire was helping me settle down Mark in his bed. He was almost asleep, his eyes barely open and his breathing deep.

"You should take a couple of weeks off," Claire whispered, pulling the covers up to Mark's chin. "At least until he can move around on his own."

I wasn't happy about it, but I had no other choice. I had to take care of Mark. But it felt like I was taking advantage of my personal relationship with Claire when it came to work.

Claire knew me well. She rounded the bed and patted my back, steering me towards the door. "Daphne, I would've done the same for any other employee. Besides, you're family now. Mark is like my third son."

"Thank you." I blinked back the irritating tears. I was getting way too emotional these days and I hated it. But I should give myself a break considering the circumstances.

"You're welcome. Now come on, let's let him get some sleep."

Chris and Nathaniel were in a heated discussion in the kitchen. They stood on either side of the island, arguing with low voices and looking annoyed.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked, sitting on a stool beside Chris.

Chris hadn't left us alone, safe for a few hours when he went to check on Kellian. The boy stayed with his grandparents.

"The address Daphne gave us is in a different district," Chris said. "The police department there will be the one to handle the case."

I stood next to Nathaniel. He was cutting vegetables with too much force. Veins popped in his forearms.

"But the police there are involved," I said. At least a number of officers were.

Nathaniel set the knife aside and threw diced tomatoes, bell pepper, lettuce and cucumber in a bowl. "The problem is that now they know you talked," he said. "Which meant they might try to get rid of any proof, maybe relocate... but I don't know how successful that would be if the compound had as many people as you said."

"God, the idea of all those people..." Claire mumbled, twin lines appearing between her eyebrows.

Chris had briefed her and Craig on things, along with Alister, since Nathaniel thought we might need his help in the future. He'd said that Alister had some shady connections that came in handy once in a while.

I sighed and opened the pantry. Pulling a bag of croutons, I tossed a few in the salad bowl while Nathaniel prepared a dressing.

"Daphne, do you remember the names of the police officers you saw there?" Chris asked.

I frowned, sealing the bag airtight. "I know first names, but I don't think they're their real names."

"How did you know they're police officers in the first place?" Claire asked.

I shrugged. "It was common knowledge back there. And we'd hear them talking with the guards, speaking about how they covered up something for the management."

"So you know what they look like?" Chris asked, taking his phone out. A predatory glint entered his eyes.

"Yes." I would never forget their faces.

"I'll be back," Chris said, putting the phone to his ear as he headed for Nathaniel's office.

"What are you going to do?" Claire asked Nathaniel. "If the police there try to cover things up?"

Nathaniel put a tea spoon in the small bowl of the salad dressing he'd just prepared. He tasted it and nodded to himself. "There are many ways to get them, Claire. Even without the police's involvement."

"Uh-huh." Claire narrowed her eyes on her brother. "Nathaniel, what are you planning?"

"Relax." Nathaniel poured the sauce on the salad and I mixed it around. "For now, we'll try doing things legally. If the police don't act, we'll take things to the federal level. And if that doesn't work, then..."

Claire pursed her lips, but Nathaniel ignored her. I looked between the two of them in confusion.

"What...?" I asked. Nathaniel smiled over his shoulder at me as he washed his hands.

"Don't worry about it." He kissed the side of my head and went to join Chris in the office.

"Hmm." I picked up a piece of crouton and popped it in my mouth. What were they planning?

Claire had a goofy grin on her face. I raised my brows. "What?"

"You and Nathaniel seem... chummy." She wiggled her eyebrows.

My neck heated up at her insinuation. "We're not chummy," I grumbled.

"Mhm." She didn't sound convinced.

"We're not!"

"Okay, okay. You're not." She laughed.

I huffed. As much as I would've liked to discuss things regarding Nathaniel and me with Claire, we had more pressing matters to think of.

The next few days were unexpectedly calm. Nathaniel went to work as usual, Claire dropped by once a day and Mark was stable, moving around on his own, albeit slowly due to his bruised ribs.

One evening, I had just put a lasagna tray in the oven when Chris and Nathaniel walked in.

"Smells great in here," Chris said, putting a heap of files on the dining table. He looked at Mark, who was reading a book on the couch, propped up and surrounded by a dozen pillows. "Hey, Mark. How are you doing?"

"Good, thank you," Mark replied, glancing at Chris.

"Hey." Nathaniel wrapped me in a short side hug, then went to the living room. Ruffling Mark's head, he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of him and spoke in a low voice. He and Mark had grown closer over the last few days.

"Are you free right now?" Chris asked, sitting at the dining table.

I washed my hands, dried them on a kitchen towel and joined him. He linked his hands on the stack of files.

"Okay, so I have good news and bad news," he said.

"Bad news first."

"The police involvement in that city runs deeper than we thought," he said. "I poked around and found out they didn't even check the location you'd pointed out."

Expected. But I didn't say that. I waited for the good news.

"Good news is, this actually gives us more liberty to act," he continued. "I know a fed who might be able to get something for us. I got the files of all the police officers in that town, and I want you to see if you can identify the ones you've seen before in the House. It's a small town so there aren't many."

He pushed the stack of files my way. I picked up the first file. They were quite detailed, with pictures and information about their professional and personal lives. How did they get their hands on this on such a short notice?

By the time Nathaniel changed out of his suit and joined us, I had managed to pinpoint three members of the police department. Two of which I didn't even know were police officers.

Nathaniel took the lasagna out of the oven, and began plating it with Chris' help. Ten minutes later, I had made a considerable dent in the files and my appetite had disappeared; out of the thirty people I had gone through, twelve were involved.

Chris resumed his seat across from me. His brows shot up as he looked at the files I put aside. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." I put my hand on my forehead. I could feel a headache coming. "I had no idea some of them were police officers, I just thought they were regular clients."

"This is serious." He rubbed his stubbled jaw. "Really serious."

Standing next to my chair, Nathaniel only glared as he went through the files, as if trying to memorize the faces in case he met them in the future. His eyes held a dark promise.

He looked at Chris. "Chris, I'm not so sure about the feds anymore."

Chris frowned. "Me neither. If the police there are as deeply involved as this, then the chance that a fed is involved is higher. I'd rather not take it."

"So what do we do?" I asked.

Nathaniel drummed his fingers on the table. "We force their hands."

Chris leaned back in his seat. "That's a risk, too. If we have no proof, the matter will just be swept under the rug."

I looked between the two men. "What are you guys saying?"

"He wants to get the press involved," Chris explained.

"The press?" I looked up at Nathaniel. "Why? How?"

"If there's one thing that will force the authorities to act, it's to get the public involved," he said. "The existence of the House should be leaked."

"You know most of the press in this damn country can be bought," Chris said.

Nathaniel waved his hand. "We're not in the nineties, Chris. The official press is no longer the only way to raise a public opinion about something."

"Social media?" Chris said, slowly nodding. "It could work."

"It will work," Nathaniel said.

"But Chris is right," I said. "If there's no proof, the issue will just be brushed aside."

"Yes." Nathaniel sat down beside me, his arm stretched out on the back of my chair. "We need proof. Visual proof would be better."

"Videos, pictures, things like that," Chris agreed.

"Most people react better to visual cues," Nathaniel said. "We get videos and pictures and drop them out onto the world. People will do the rest."

"Hopefully," I mumbled. I didn't really trust people.

"Don't worry," Chris said. "We won't leave it completely up to chance. Between Nathaniel and me-"

"And Alister," Nathaniel said.

"And Alister, we have enough influence and resources to get things moving in the right direction."

"The issue is how to get that proof in the first place," Nathaniel said.

"Undercover," I mumbled. The two men looked at me. "If someone goes undercover as a client to the House, maybe we can hide a camera or something in their clothes?"

"You watched too many movies," Nathaniel said with a glint in his eyes. I stuck my tongue at him. He smiled and looked at Chris. "But that's a good idea. Right, Chris? You're the security expert. Can it be done?"

"Yes." Chris had a contemplative look on his face. "If the security measures of that place aren't advanced, it can be done. But I doubt a place like that would be easy to just visit."

"You're right," I said, remembering a few conversations I'd overheard. "I think the clients there actually get invited. It's like a referral program. You can't even visit the House unless another client invites you or vouches for you."

"Hmm, no wonder they managed to keep the secret for so long," Chris said.

"Will that throw a wrench in the plan?" I asked.

"Not necessarily," Nathaniel said. "We'll just have to get an invite, then."

"How?"

"You know the identities of some clients," he said with a devious smile. "We'll just get them to issue us an invite."

"Knowing the faces of the clients doesn't make locating them easy," I said. "I don't know their names. Except..."

Nathaniel nodded. "Granger."

"Wait, Granger is a client?" Chris asked. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Nathaniel. "So that's why you wanted him out."

I blinked, surprised he didn't know. So Nathaniel hadn't told him about Granger. Nathaniel nodded.

"Well, Granger is out of the country right now," Chris said. "And he'll stay out for at least a few months."

I tightened my hands into a single fist. A few months.

"We won't wait for him," Nathaniel said. "Let's compile a list of Granger's associates and acquaintances. If he's a client, then someone he knows must be one, too."

Okay. That was a good idea.

"Alright," Nathaniel stood up. "Dinner first."

With his bruised ribs, Mark shouldn't move around. We got our plates and sat in the living room with him. I pushed my food around. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. I was excited that we had a plan that both Chris and Nathaniel seemed sure about, and scared that things could go wrong and the House would just keep on existing.

After dinner, I took Mark to his room while Chris and Nathaniel cleaned up the kitchen.

"Daphie?" Mark said when he was all settled in bed. I turned on the bedside lamp and turned off the lights. His cheeks were flushed from being swaddled in blankets all day long.

"Yes?" I asked, sitting carefully beside him.

"Did you tell the police about them?" He whispered, his fingers flicking on the covers.

"I did," I replied. "Why?"

"Will it be okay?"

I swallowed and smiled as much as I could. No child should have to worry about such things. No child should bear such a burden.

"It will. We have to... they won't leave us alone. The House should be destroyed or we won't live in peace," I said. "And we have to help the people we left behind."

"Why didn't we do it sooner then?" Mark asked.

"Because I was afraid. I was a coward. It took almost losing you to make me see that I needed to speak out." I brushed his hair back. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "But we're safe now."

He said it with such conviction, I nodded. "Yes, we're safe."

Mark yawned and turned his head. "Okay, good night."

I smiled. Sometimes, I wished I was as sanguine about things as Mark was.

I left Mark asleep and joined the men in the living room. Chris and Nathaniel were sitting on the couch, Chris on his phone and Nathaniel on his computer. Nathaniel patted the spot next to him. I sat down.

"Yes, his personal connections as well," Chris was saying. "Anything you can find. Thank you, Joanna."

He hung up and looked at the screen of Nathaniel's laptop. "Daphne, why don't you start by looking through the photo web search for Granger, see if you can identify anyone? Just while we get a more extensive list of all his connections."

"Okay."

Nathaniel put the laptop on my lap. I raised my hands, looking between the keyboard and the screen. I'd never used a laptop before.

"Here," Nathaniel said with a small smile, showing me how to scroll down the screen. "It's not gonna bite."

I gave him a withering look, which only made his smile widen, and focused on the screen.

Chris and Nathaniel moved to the kitchen and discussed some reporter. The smell of coffee tickled my nose as I scrolled down on the pictures.

Seeing so much of Granger made me sick, but after a while I grew desensitized to his ugly mug and only saw the people he was photographed with. Picture after picture, the faces were foreign.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I blinked, feeling my eyes strain. Nathaniel stood behind the couch with a mug of coffee. "Anything?"

"Thank you," I mumbled, taking the mug. "Nothing yet."

"You can take a pause," Nathaniel said. "Chris is having someone gather as much intelligence about Granger as possible. It'll be more effective to go through his list."

"Nathaniel. Come here for a sec," Chris called.

"Okay," I took a sip of the sweet coffee and looked at the laptop.

An idea popped in my head. I glanced back at Nathaniel and Chris. They hunched over Chris' phone, looking busy. I put the mug down on the coffee table and typed Nathaniel's full name in the search bar. I had never thought about looking him up online.

Images popped up. I scrolled down. There were considerably less results compared to Granger, and all pictures were of him in professional functions. Images of Chris and Alister also appeared on screen.

I glanced back at Nathaniel in case he decided to sneak up on me again. He was deep in conversation with Chris. I focused on the photos and smiled. He looked grumpy in almost all of them.

That was when I saw him.

It was a blurry image. A group of men sat around a table, in the middle of which was a crystal chandelier. The only light originated from the chandelier and somewhere outside the frame, so the people's faces weren't clear. However, I could clearly recognize Nathaniel sitting next to Alister, turned toward each other discussing something. What made my heart drop was the man on the other side of Alister.

He was dressed in a dark suit, his hair looked dark in the picture but I knew it to be peppered with gray at the temples. He was a handsome, middle-aged man who never let himself go, fit and carrying himself with confidence.

He was also the man who killed Ester.

My hand shook on the touchpad. I scrolled down and up, looking for some other picture, but found none.

"Nathaniel?" I called, my voice high pitched. "Can you come here for a second?"

"Yeah," he said, coming to sit beside me. His brows furrowed when he saw my face. "What's wrong? You look pale. Are you okay?"

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, and pointed at the picture. My finger shook. "Who's the man next to Alister?"

Nathaniel squinted at the screen. "That's... damn, what's his name again? Chris come here for a sec."

Chris leaned on the back of the couch and looked at the laptop. "That's Robbins. Why? Do you recognize him, Daphne?"

"I think I do," I mumbled.

Nathaniel took the laptop and typed Jake Robbins. Pictures popped up. My stomach twisted up in knots. I quickly nodded. "Yes. Yes, that's him."

"Damn," Chris murmured. "I didn't expect him to be involved."

I glanced over my shoulder at Chris. "Why?"

"He's a big philanthropist," Chris said. "He donates millions of dollars every year to women and children's charity."

Incredulous laughter bubbled up. Oh, that was rich. It just goes to show that real life monsters often wear sheep's clothing.

"Well," Nathaniel said, scrolling down the search results. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "I guess we found our target."