Blake's best friend.

The words brought with them a thread of trepidation. How close was this going to get? I looked at Nathaniel, and in his eyes I saw the fear. Fear for his brother. They might not get along, but they were still brothers.

"Maybe he's not involved," I told him. "I never saw Blake before."

Nathaniel put the notebook down on the table and dropped down on the seat next to me. "Maybe... But his friend can't be an old client, though. He's still young."

I chewed on my cheek. "He's only started visiting in the last year," I said.

Nathaniel rubbed his face. "Which means there's a chance that he recently dragged Blake into it as well, after you left."

It was true. Blake's friend had been a recent client. He could very well have invited Blake there after I had escaped. Considering what I knew about Blake, I didn't think he would mind going to such a place.

I sighed. No, that wasn't fair. I didn't know Blake. It was true that our encounters had painted him in a bad light, to say the least, but that didn't mean that he would be involved.

Nathaniel had a frown on his face during lunch. He must still be worried about Blake.

He was cleaning up the kitchen after, while I turned on the coffee machine. I leaned against the island and watched him as the coffee machine gurgled to life.

"What is it?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me. He folded the wet rag, put it next to the sink, and turned to face me, his smile playful. "As much as I love you staring at me, I can almost hear your brain working."

I ignored the way my heart danced to his words. This wasn't the time. "Do you regret it?"

He frowned. "Regret what?"

"Helping me with the House," I said. "Now that you know Blake might be involved, this mess might affect him, and he's your brother, so..."

"He's my brother, and I worry about him as much as he annoys me," he said. "But if he's involved in this, then he should deal with the consequences. This is the right thing to do, Daphne. Just because someone I care about is involved doesn't mean I'll stop."

I had known he would say this, but I'd been a little worried, nonetheless. Relief flooded my chest. I nodded. "Okay."

"The fact that you might even think otherwise is very insulting," he said, crossing his arms. His face was serious, but there was a smile in his eyes. "I'm very hurt. I demand compensation."

I snorted. "Aha. What kind of compensation?"

He leaned forward and turned his face, giving me his cheek. He tapped his finger on his cheek with a grin. "A kiss."

I raised my hand, about to pinch his cheek, but changed my mind at the last minute and pressed my lips to his face. He froze, looking at me with wide eyes.

My heart pounded. "What?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Isn't that what you asked for?"

He blinked, a slow smile stretched his face and lined his cheeks. "I did. But to be completely honest, I expected a little punch or something."

He knew me too well. "I changed my mind at the very last second," I told him, straightening up. I walked to the coffee machine and said over my shoulder. "You should count yourself lucky."

He laughed. "Oh, I know I am, love. I know I am."

Nathaniel and I took our coffees and played a game of chess. He'd improved compared to the first time we played. I still beat him, but it took me considerably longer.

"One of those days, I'll win," he said, downing the last of his coffee. He grimaced. it must have been cold.

"We'll see," I told him, sneaking glances at Mark. He was dozing off on the couch, his tablet held loosely in his hand.

"He loves school, it seems," Nathaniel said. "When I was his age, doing my homework was a form of torture."

Homework. I wished I could say I understood, but I didn't. There were so many experiences I had missed, but I would get to live them with Mark, and there were still many more I could still live.

"So, any thoughts about college?" Nathaniel asked. He leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his cheek on his fist. The way his dark eyes fastened on my face made me want to touch my cheeks to see if they were as hot as they felt.

"Not really, no," I said, running my finger on the rim of my mug. "Right now, all I can think of is the House and this mess. I can't focus on anything else."

"It will blow over soon, hopefully," he said. "Then you can focus on resuming your life."

I put my mug on the table and began arranging the chess pieces on the board. "I don't even know how to begin, Nathaniel. I don't know what I should do or how to go about things," I said, feeling the tightening of anxiety in my guts. I blew out a deep breath. "Thinking about the future makes me break into cold sweat."

Nathaniel quietly helped me line all the chess pieces into their proper spots. After we were done, he looked at the board.

"Beginnings are often difficult for everyone," he finally said. "And you won't have to do it all on your own. But you're right, until this mess is over, I doubt you'll have the heart for anything else. So just put it out of your mind for now."

I nodded, it was better to just ignore the future right now. With everything happening, putting it out of my mind was easy.

Chris called Nathaniel later that day when I was working out on the elliptical. Apparently, they had gotten a decent amount of footage from the hidden cameras in the House. So far, no one seemed to have noticed them.

The fact that they were still loose on security meant they were certain that no one would be able to touch them. That meant they had powerful people in their pockets.

That scared me, but since it made them careless, it was actually to our advantage.

It wasn't until the next day that Chris finally visited us for the final step. We just had dinner and Mark had gone to bed early. Cecile had spent the afternoon with us, and keeping up with her sapped his energy.

"I'm here with the final product," Chris said, putting his laptop on the dining table. He shrugged off his tan jacket, draped it over the back of a chair and sat down. The sleeves of his gray shirt stretched across his bulging biceps as he opened his laptop.

I washed my hands from the soap and wiped them on a kitchen towel. A bright-eyed Nathaniel sat down next to Chris. He looked the way he usually did when I made the coffee cake he loved so much.

I threw the kitchen towel on the island and joined them, sitting on the other side of Chris.

"So," he began, opening up a picture on the screen of his laptop. "We will be posting three files, in total. One is a video, a collection of the footage we compiled. The second is a picture with a brief text explaining what the House actually is and citing the police involvement and important details like that. And the third is the address of the House."

"The address? Why?" I asked. "I mean, I understand sending it to the DAs offices. But with the post that will go public? Why?"

Chris grinned and rubbed his hands. "Because, my lovely Daphne, we don't want the people working in the House to destroy any evidence or get the workers out of there before the right authorities get to them."

"How will you do that?" I asked. I was so naive I hadn't even thought of that possibility.

"A little group of volunteers will surround the compound of the House, they'll have an online live on at all times," Chris said. "In order to keep everyone inside the House from trying to make a run for it."

I drummed my fingers on the table. "A little group of volunteers, huh?"

"More like a few dozen people. They'll be there right as the post goes online," Chris said.

"I assume you're responsible for these 'volunteers'," I said. "Where did you find them?"

"Money makes all sorts of things very easy," Chris said. "Also, the devilish idea was Nathaniel's. He's also the one shouldering the bill."

I glanced at Nathaniel. He winked at me. They really thought this through.

"Let's see the video," Nathaniel said. I took a deep, shuddering breath. Chris nodded, his enthusiastic smile melting. He clicked a few keys, and a video played on the screen.

The first footage was of Jay's conversation with the guard, John, where the guard made it clear that they had been offering children for prostitution before, and they were intending to do it again.

Nathaniel nodded. "This alone will get things moving in the right direction."

"Oh, there's much more," Chris said as the video transitioned.

Starlight was next. She was sitting in the loveseat of the Burgundy Suite, a forced sultry smile on her lips. A black band covered her eyes on the screen to shield her identity. She did well. I could almost believe she wasn't acting.

It made sense, since she probably had a dozen conversations just like this one before, except they had all been real, and their end wasn't as hopeful as this one.

"How old are you again?" Jay's voice asked in the video.

"I'm sixteen," Starlight said. "But there is a younger girl if you want. I can call her and we can all have fun."

"That's not necessary," Jay said. "Sixteen is a little young to be working in a place like this, don't you think?"

Starlight's smile dimmed. "There used to be younger girls, too." She shook her head and turned on the wattage of her smile again. "Anyway, you're not here to talk, are you?"

"No harm in getting to know each other," Jay said. "Can we meet outside as well, sometime? This place is a little far away from the city."

"We're not allowed outside the compound," Starlight said. "But you can request me whenever you come here."

"Ah, I see," Jay said.

The video switched again. This time it showed the waiting space on the first floor of the House. It must have been the middle of the night, when the House was busy and the place was full of clients. My stomach roiled. Half naked men and women, moans and screams, whips and violence and drugs. The nudity and the faces were blurred in the video, but anyone could clearly see what was happening there.

I looked away from the screen. My dinner rose to my throat.

"The version we're sending to the DAs is not blurred," Chris said, his voice cold. "They deserve to see the full scope of ugliness that's happening there."

"Where's this?" Nathaniel asked. I looked at the screen. The view had changed. It was now what I know was the second floor.

"The living quarters of the Dispensables," I answered Nathaniel's question. "That's where guards usually stay during work hours, if they're not downstairs. Only regular clients are allowed up there. Clients who'd been visiting for years."

The view was of the break room, which consisted of the open kitchen and living room area. That must be where Starlight had planted the camera. The familiar dilapidated brown cupboards, the worn leather couches, the stained floorboard and the soft gray walls flung me right back to a time where that had been my home. And I could almost smell the alcohol, bitter coffee, cigarettes, the chemical stench of smoked drugs- all sorts of drugs- and sex.

It was much less glamorous compared to the guests' wing downstairs.

It must be in the afternoon. The dining table between the kitchen and the living room was occupied by a few guards playing cards, blunts of cigarettes and empty bottles littered the ground and the table. One of the Dispensables got more bottles from the fridge and put them on the table, then disappeared out of sight.

The guards were laughing and joking with each other. As we watched, a girl ran into the view of the camera, from what I knew was the hallway of our rooms.

She was dressed in a short silky dress, her red hair trailing after her in a waterfall of curls. Jess. Her face was blurred but I would recognize that vibrant hair anywhere. She was named after Jessica Rabbit for her resemblance to the character. She was an older worker there, about ten years or so older than me.

A man was running after her. I squinted at the screen. It was Logan. That bastard. He caught her by the hair and pulled her back toward him.

"Jess Jess Jess, how many times did I tell you to keep that pretty mouth shut and do what you're told," Logan said, jerking her by her hair.

She held onto her head, her face screwed in pain even through the blur. "He's going to kill me, Logan! He almost killed me last time. Please don't make me see him again-"

He dragged her behind him until he reached the dining table and threw her against it.

"Damn it, Logan! Take it somewhere else!" One of the guards sitting at the table called, picking up his bottle when the table wobbled under Jessica's weight.

"Shut it," Logan said, looking furious. Jessica stood up and turned toward him, her back to the table and her voice trembling with fear.

"Logan, please-"

I fisted my hands. I knew what was coming. Refusing to do what the client asked for, paid for, was the only crime in that place.

He backhanded her so hard she staggered to the ground. Logan cracked his head and moved slowly towards her.

The guards around the table cursed and stood.

"He's going at it again," one of them said, picking up his bottle. "Let's take the game somewhere else, he's going to take a while."

The guards grumbled and filed out of view, leaving Jessica under Logan's mercy.

The beating was brutal. He kicked and slapped and punched. Jessica curled around herself. A few people walked by, coming and going from the kitchen, as if that was a regular occurrence. Which it was.

Chris rubbed his eyes and sighed. Nathaniel pushed away from the table and paced back and forth, looking like a caged wild animal that wanted to tear into prey. I kept my eyes glued to the screen. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't look away. If Jessica could go through it, then I could watch it. That was the least I could do.

After a few seconds, the video ended. Chris snapped the laptop close with a sigh.

"We got some more footage, mostly similar to this," he said. "We'll release a variation of it in the upcoming few days after the initial post goes live."

I nodded and dragged my hands down my face, wiping off my tears. "When?"

"The post will go public on all social media platforms tonight at around eight."

I glanced at the clock. "That's in one hour."

"Yeah. That's when people are more active on social media," Chris said. "It'll take a few hours for it to go viral."

"Are we sure it'll go viral?" I asked.

"We'll make sure of it," Nathaniel said, coming to a stop behind Chris. His scowl was murderous.

"The mob of people we hired are ready," Chris said. "They'll get there early in the morning. That should be early enough to keep the management of the House from getting rid of any evidence."

Nathaniel nodded. His phone rang on the island. He picked it up. His face broke into a triumphant expression when he saw the caller's ID.

"Mr. Ford," Nathaniel said, moving to his office. "You're a difficult man to catch a hold of."

Chris shot to his feet, his pale eyes eager.

"Who?" I asked in a whisper. The name was vaguely familiar.

"The Attorney General," Chris replied.

"Oh." I glanced at the hallway where Nathaniel had disappeared. A couple of days ago, he'd shown me a picture of a man and asked if I recognized him. I hadn't. When I inquired who the man was, he told me it was the Attorney General.

Chris walked to the French doors and looked out the glass. He rubbed his bottom lip. "Let's hope Nathaniel gets him involved," Chris said. "That should make things more interesting."

I left the table and joined Chris. The city night outside sparkled with countless lights. Our reflection in the glass was faint.

"Thank you, Chris," I told him, wrapping my arms around myself. "For everything you've done, everything you're doing. I owe you."

"You don't," he said with a small smile. "It's the right thing to do. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to do it and save innocent lives. That's more than what most people could say they did in their lifetime."

I smiled at him. "You're a good man."

He winked. "No. I'm the best."

I chuckled. We stayed quiet for a few seconds, waiting for Nathaniel to come back with good news.

"Did it happen often?" Chris suddenly asked. "The beatings."

I sighed. "Often enough. If you're asking if it happened to me; not that often. I learned a long time ago that it's easier to just comply."

Chris rubbed a hand down his face and gave me a small smile. "I'm glad you're out of there."

"Me too, Chris. Me too."