“Look lively, Nat!” I cheered.
“You’re about to make your debut.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that curled my lips as I pointed to the screen behind me. The projector whirred to life, and Natasha’s face appeared, bathed in the soft glow of her bedroom light.
And there she was, posing and preening for strangers online, desperate for their validation.
“Isn’t she stunning?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Our little Nat, queen of the webcam. Always needing someone to tell her she’s pretty. Such a pity, don’t you think?”
The room was silent except for the sound of her voice echoing from the speakers. Her words were pathetic, filled with fake sweetness as she begged for attention from faceless men. I watched as the reality of what was happening sank in for her.
Natasha’s head dropped, her shame palpable.
“You really had to stoop that low, Nat? That's pathetic,” Damian sneered, his voice cutting through the silence.
But I wasn’t done. Not even close.
“Not as pathetic as you, baby” I said with a grin, and with a click, the screen shifted. The color drained from his face as his HIV report appeared in stark black and white. Every detail was there, every piece of evidence laid bare for them to see.
“This here,” I said, tapping the screen, “is your little secret. Or it was, anyway.”
“You bitch! Shut it off!” Damian’s voice was a frantic plea, his earlier smugness completely gone.
"Why?" I mocked. "You don't like seeing who you really are?"
"Stop it! I said, stop it now!"
“Anyone here says ‘stop,’ and you automatically lose a finger. No vote required,” I warned, my voice steady, cold. I wasn’t in the mood for interruptions.
He swallowed hard, eyes darting between me and the others, but he stayed silent, his hand instinctively covering his fingers.
"Ryder! You're next!" I clapped. "Any questions you have for me?"
Bernadette suddenly spoke. She’d been quiet, too quiet, until now. “Cairo, please, just stop. Do to me what you’re going to do to Ryder. Just leave them out of this.”
I turned to her, pouting slightly. “If only you cared about me as much as you care about that asshole. But since you were my best friend, Bernie, I’ll ask you a question instead.”
She looked at me with tear-filled eyes, barely able to speak through her sobs. “What did I ever do to you, Cairo? How can you hate me so much? We were freaking best friends since we were kids—”
Ignoring her, I leaned in close, locking eyes with her, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Do you think these people deserved what they got tonight, Bernie?”
“No,” she sobbed. “Not in a million years.”
A sad smile tugged at my lips. “And that’s exactly why you’re here.”
The screen flickered again, and this time it was Miles’ turn. Video after video, each one showcasing his perverted little hobby. Girls who had trusted him, caught in the most vulnerable moments, recorded without their consent. I watched as the disgust settled into the group, as even they couldn’t hide their revulsion.
And then Ryder. His sin was different, darker. The screen filled with images and news clippings, all centered around that one event—the drowning of the young boy.
