Brit Cavanaugh is his name tonight.

He usually goes by Scott—he went by Scott back in the city over, but for the last few years, he's been Brit. Brit Cavanaugh, college student in the south end. His alter-ego is a know-nothing frat boy who sells oxy to other students to get them through exam season.

A year and a half ago, Adam and his team caught a homeless man with seven grams of cocaine. In comes the deal: The man gives the name of the bigger fish, and he gets off.

Warsaw Winx, the man said. That's who he buys from. In comes Brit, who started buying oxy from Warsaw Winx a few weeks later, giving Winx the impression that Brit is the homeless man's nephew, whom he trusts. Brit is a cop who has bought nearly one hundred thousand dollars of drugs from Winx in the last year. When he receives the oxy from Winx, he deals it out to the college students, and he makes good money.

The cops have enough on Winx to put him away for life. But Winx is not the fish they want. After establishing a connection with Winx, Brit says he'd like to switch over and get in on the cocaine trade. Winx tells him the cocaine trade is a lot different from the oxy trade—a lot higher stakes, and he doesn't sell bulk cocaine. So Brit asks the name of Winx's dealer. The big fish. Winx skirts around it, dallies for months, making sure Brit is legit. Then, finally, he gives it up.

Nyx. Eris Diakos. That's the only bitch in the city that'll set you up with bulk of the hard shit, Winx says. I can get you a meeting.

It took nearly six months to get a deal with Eris. There was a lot of back and forth—never any confession of selling—never from anyone up high. Then, finally, two weeks ago, Brit gets his instructions. He's to buy a large, white van and have 'Mary's desserts' painted on the side. He's to buy a driver uniform with the same logo and put it on. He's to fill the back of his van with unsuspecting things—cookware, dessert Tupperware, the works. He's to drive to the back loading entrance of Nyx entertainment at nine o'clock on a Saturday night in the middle of the summer. He's to bring only his pre-approved partner, his best friend and fellow student Stanley. Now Stanley actually is a student, and he has no clue that his fake best friend is, in fact, a fake best friend. Brit has spent months making friends with Stanley and taking courses at the college. He knows Nyx has been watching him—following him from his dorm to class and back. He only speaks to Adam from the satellite phone in the bathroom of his dorm on Friday nights.

Yesterday, during his talk with Adam, the Sergeant informed Brit that he was to pick up a micro microphone from the front desk of his dorm building, which he did, and fasten it to the second button of his shirt, which he did. Actually receiving the cocaine would shut all of Nyx down for good, but a simple uttering of the words 'cocaine' and 'sell' with a personal pronoun from Eris would put her away, hence the mic. That way, Brit is also protected in case things get violent.

Before he leaves his dorm, Brit does a test with his mic, then he goes down to the parking lot, where he meets Stanley. They get in his van and drive to the east end.

Brit is covered in tattoos and shows off long, greasy blonde hair that he—as Scott—absolutely hates. Scott is a well-trained, level-headed officer that's only in this position because he begged, pleaded and worked for it. But Brit's hands shake as he drives. He pulls into the back lot at Nyx on Saturday night with sweaty palms. He gets out of the van and knocks on the service door, Stanley close by.

Nikolas answers. He sees Brit as a new dealer that's going to start up with Nyx. He nods to Brit once, then invites the both of them inside.

"Do I—is the..." Brit pauses. "The packages—do I get them here, or—"

Nikolas laughs. Eris rarely deals with college kids, but she's missing big market if she cuts them out entirely. So she brought in Brit because he was smart enough not to mess anything up, and in the four months she's had people on him, he hasn't slipped up.

"Yeah, kid. We'll load those up for you, but you're gonna have to talk to the boss first. First-timers always do."

Brit nods. He knows he's going to have to have a long, gruelling conversation with Eris, and that even scares Scott. But he's ready for that. He's been acting for his job before Eris Diakos was even old enough to vote. And with Stanley there, Eris will have a hard time figuring out who's who and who might be suspicious.

Nikolas leads Brit and Stanley down to the pit, where the usual crowd is already gathering. They're told to wait in a private lounge room.

Brit knows Eris will make him wait, because that instills both fear and lets him know who's the boss and who calls the shots. And she does make them wait. First for ten minutes, then for thirty.

Brit waits patiently in the private lounge for another four minutes before the door opens and Eris comes through. Her hair is iron-straight but slightly curled at the edges, her steely eyes rimmed with a slight tinge of black. She's wearing a long, dark grey evening dress, showing off every slender curve. Brit straightens immediately. I'm selling you cocaine. The product is cocaine. Any of the above with be mission accomplished. If not, Brit has to get those drugs in his van.

"Evening, boys, she says. Her voice is monotoned, her skin flawless and her appearance stark. She sits on the couch across from Brit and Stanley, crossing her legs. Brit can see the smooth skin of her calves, and he runs his eyes over it. A college kid would.

"Evening," Brit says. Stanley mutters along with him.

"What would the two of you like to drink?" It's a question, but that constant tempo and volume of her voice make it hard to tell.

"Whiskey," Brit says. "Neat."

Stanley's face is white. "The same."

A server comes in, and Eris doesn't look up at her. She's been watching Stanley since she came in, and she's seemingly written him off. Now she's got her eyes on Brit.

"Neat whiskey for the boys," she says to the server, not taking her eyes off Brit. The server leaves, the moment turns to silence, and still she says nothing.

Then finally, "College boys, yes? Tell me your majors."

Stanley coughs twice. "I'm in, uh, environmental sciences."

"Noble field," Eris replies, gaze still on Brit.

Brit shifts slightly in that I'm-uncomfortable-but-not-scared way. "Business," he answers.

"That's good for me," Eris answers.

Adam is listening closely through Brit's mic. Brit needs to get her talking. Cocaine. She needs to say the word.

For a terrifying moment, Brit feels like Eris can hear his heart stammer. But when that snakelike gaze doesn't flinch, Brit speaks, "I was sent up by Winx. He says you could help us get cocaine into circulation at the school."

It's a good question. All she has to do is say that she can—

The server is back with their drinks. She hands the whiskey to Stanley and Brit, and hands Eris a martini.

Eris leans back a little, seemingly comfortable. Once the server leaves, she takes a sip of her drink. "I can help you with a lot of things," she says.

"Bitch," Adam says.

"Will we get any protection from Nyx?" Stanley is asking. "I mean, I've been buying from some guys, and once me and Brit come in with this new hard shit, they're gonna come after us."

"For a period of time, Nyx will protect you. After that, you're on your own."

Stanley nods. "Can we...get on with this shit, then?" He gives a little snort. "Y'all make me nervous."

Eris lifts her chin. "Stanley, you go up to the loading entrance. Wait there. I'm going to talk with your friend."

Adam can see Brit's heart rate and measurements, and at that moment, they skyrocket.

Brit can't relax. Once Stanley leaves, he's all alone in this criminal's room, where anyone can blow out his head. Sure, Stanley wasn't a cop or any form of help, but he was something of a cushion to Brit.

The door closes behind Stanley, and Eris watches Brit for another moment. She takes another sip.

"Let's talk business, Brit," she says finally, leaning forward. "Your friend's not the brain nor brawn, which means you have to be both. Why invite him in on this?"

So there would be more a distraction when she interrogated him, which failed.

Brit takes a breath. "It's an isolating business. I guess I wanted a friend."

"This isn't the kind of situation where you bring in liabilities for emotional security, but it is the kind of business where you drag along dead weight for distractions."

Brit blinks. Apparently, Eris scored high above a certifiable genius on her psych eval. He knows it, but it still surprises him to hear her switch to outward intelligence so quickly. He is careful as he replies, "If you'd like him out, he's out."

"You'd throw him that fast?"

"Slow her down," Adam says, even though he knows Brit can't hear him. That's one of Eris' most effective tactics—she snaps out her replies faster than her converser can think, leading them to slip up.

Brit takes a sip of the whisky. There's no harm in taking a moment to reply, but if he shows that he's aware of Eris' tricks, that'll be just as bad. "He's my best friend. I wouldn't want to do it, but I'd say you're the law at this point."

"You have any family, Brit?" she asks.

"Just an uncle."

"Who's putting you through college, then?"

"Me. I work evenings at the skate shop near my dorm."

Eris leans back. The boy is clean—his story matches up with what her scouts tell her Brit has been doing. Everything matches up. He's the right amount of nervous, the right amount of smart. Brit isn't the cop. She needs to move on.

Still, Eris watches him for a moment before she stands. There's a lot resting on her guessing this correctly, but she's never been wrong before.

Brit stands after. Eris has been careful to avoid a confession, but it looks like Stanley is going to get away with the drugs either way.

"Let's get you loaded," Eris says, opening the door for Brit.

Brit can almost feel Adam holding his breath on the other end. Everything is tense and ready to snap, so easily brought down.

Eris leads him back up to the loading doors. Brit digs out the money—all twenties. In ten minutes, the money will be circulating all around the pit. Ten thousand dollars of police money.

Nikolas meets Eris the shelves. "He's clean?"

There's so much resting on this. Her life. Her freedom. Nikolas, Peter, and Kayla's, too, probably—if Eris is in jail, there's no one to defend them in court.

Stanley has come back in from the van, and he waits with Brit by the door.

Eris shakes off her doubts. She's been watching him for months. She needs in on the college trade. He's the perfect candidate. Her gut has never been wrong. Why would it be wrong now? Don't overthink it—that's Eris' style, and by god, has it worked well so far.

Nikolas and Peter load the Tupperware into the back of Brit's van. Brit is so nervous he feels he might throw up. The cocaine is shrouded, but it's there. He can't believe this is going to happen. He can't believe he's the reason Eris Diakos and Nyx will go down in a fiery haze.

Adam is waiting at the station for Brit's van. He's in his office, monitoring. And for one, brief moment, he remembers the feeling of Eris' eyes on his, glittering in the evening. She's just a girl—just twenty-five. She'll be charged with life. She'll never be free to glitter or flirt ever again.

Adam's fingers are beginning to shake. He's worked for this moment for years. She's a drug dealer—the biggest one in the city. This is his job. She spiked his drink, played with his mind; she had no problem playing dirty. Adam shouldn't feel this remorse.

Eris is still watching from the frame of the door as if she's ready to take it all back at any moment. She watches the doors to the van shut, watches as Brit gets in the driver's seat. Stanley is in the passenger seat. They do up their seatbelts.

Brit has done it. She can't stop him now. He glances out the window to her, waiting in the frame. Her eyes shimmer in the moonlight, perhaps for the last time. His heart races. Court will be her last chance now—an insanity plea, something that might get her out early.

Brit puts the van in drive. He pulls out of the parking lot at Nyx.

Adam and Wilkes are out in the parking lot to receive the van. Wilkes is waiting silently while Eris goes back in to Nyx.

Brit pulls into the station, confusing Stanley. His hands are shaking so much he can barely drive. Sweat is dripping into the mic. He backs into the evidence zone of the police station. He turns off the van. He meets Adam and Wilkes at the back.

Wilkes has the doors open, thumbing through the Tupperware.

"Good god," he says. "We got her."

Adam reaches for the Tupperware, too, also shaking slightly. He pops the lid off, folds back the shroud.

Wilkes leans over his shoulder. Brit, now back to Scott, cannot stop shaking.

Adam puts the Tupperware back into the trunk of the van, not bothering to put the lid back on. He looks at Wilkes, who looks at him.

"Fucking bitch," Adam says.

Four thousand candy hearts. That's what the police just spent ten thousand dollars on. Four thousand candy hearts with Adam's name printed into them.