Since he was sentenced to imprisonment for premeditated murder, the sound of a happy family is no longer heard in the mornings. There was no more talk than was necessary. No bread was baked, no bacon, egg, or other cold liquid for breakfast, for milk was not a privilege for the family of a murderer. The custom of baking bread at breakfast vanished like water between the hands to honor the absent member of the family, whose seat always remained empty.

   ‘Because of you, the peaceful life we had as a family was lost!’ wanted to cry out Rebeka, who found reasons to make her father see that it had all been his fault, but that was not letting go of the past. ‘Calm down,’ she said to herself, and as she stared into the room where her father stood, she lifted her chest as if she felt proud.

 “No thanks to you, this house could continue to be sustained when you left.”

   Jharol bit his tongue bitterly, for he felt as if he was offering roses and receiving hurtful stabs from someone he held in high esteem, but his daughter was right. The house was still standing because of Soe’s efforts and sacrifice. For a family woman who gave up her college career and job future in order to take care of the house, her husband, and her daughter, what would happen if all the security, peace of mind, and well-being that a husband whose salary was generously brought were left overnight?

“Hell. Work in such a way that you can find and survive for your daughter,” whispered Jharol, who shook his head from side to side, so as not to get lost in those thoughts and not to remember how his wife had to sell her body to strangers who promised to guarantee security and welfare to her and her daughter, so as not to feel guilty for not having been able to maintain the dignity of her family name.

At that moment, Omar came down the stairs, moving his body very freely. 

 “How good it smells. Shall the three of us eat together?”

At her boyfriend’s casual question, Rebeka added:

“After what he did to you!!!?”

“It was nothing; look, I’m fine now. Good as new. I think it’s time to get a new haircut. I was looking in the mirror, and this white patch matches me.”

“Good as new?! I wiped almost a bucket of blood off the floor.”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t blame him,” said Omar, looking in Jharol’s direction. “After all, my father was responsible. Your dad just stood by his principles.”

“Do you even know anything?” asked Jharol, as if he had a glimmer of hope in his eyes. After all, if the son himself testified against his father and the truth came out about why the nation’s former president had been assassinated, he would be atoned for his charges.

 “He was disinherited from his family name; even if he said something, no one would believe him,” Rebeka said pessimistically. “Life is miserable, whichever way they put it. We have to live with what we get.”

“But we can do something to stop more injustice,” Jharol mentioned, looking at Omar.

“The experiments won’t stop, tell me... Have we spared the lives of animals that scream in pain?” argued Omar, as if using his father’s words.

“They are not animals!” asserted Jharol.

“It’s not like they are humans either,” replied Omar.

At the answer, Jharol looked at the young man and was speechless. To him, it wasn’t very likely that anyone else would know so much detail about the secret experiments being conducted by the government.

“The executives hate you, just as they hated the previous president. It has all been a plan set in motion by the movements of the gears of great machinery for the purpose of attaining immortality. At this point, since you received a parole benefit for Soe’s death, you should have no home to return to and would have to be incarcerated for the remainder of your sentence. That’s the reason I’m not going to the hospital. It is all I can do to go against the plans of this government.”

“Immortality? Gears? What are you talking about, Omar?” asked Rebeka, confused, to the point of believing that her boy had irreparable damage to his head.

“Why would you do such a thing for someone you don’t know?” asked Jharol.

“You may not know, but I do know my father, and I hate him. I know Rebeka, and I found love, and I also know myself.”

Jharol kept silent; in spite of everything, he did not believe that the boy he had assaulted had such deep motives to act.

 Evidently, the two did not want to talk much about it with her, as if knowing was dangerous in a certain way. Rebeka, taking a deep breath, decided to set the table and, at the end, added a third plate of food and looked at her father.

She did not want to know about it; many times Omar had tried to tell her what had happened, but the problem, so far, was not being guilty but the consequences.

During the dinner that included meat, rice, and some chopped vegetables, Omar and Jharol raised their heads once or twice, sitting at the side of the table in opposite directions. But before they said anything, they kept eating. It wasn’t that Omar was eating; it was more like he was shoveling food back and forth in his mouth and making it hard to swallow, but he was trying.

 Rebeka understood that, at the table, when they ate together, it was necessary to talk, but at the same time, as there was not enough trust among those present, the situation was difficult. She was the first to finish, not because she was the fastest eater, but because not much had been served on her plate. After placing her silverware aside, she raised her head and said,

“The chamber section is about to begin. But with Jharol here in the house, my shouting or doing the things I usually do will become inconvenient.”

It hurt Jharol when his daughter called him by his name. As he ate with his mouth closed, he bitterly accepted what was happening, and in truth, even he did not know if he would be able to bear to listen to his daughter screaming or being beaten by Omar somehow.

“You can send a message to your followers and cancel the session,” added Omar as a solution, finding the perfect opportunity not to keep eating.

“You’re right,” replied Rebeka. “But we planned that today would be the last session, the one that would guarantee the remaining money to invest in our business and be able to earn our lives back.”

 “To tell you the truth, the last day of our retreat would be the same day that your father would be released from jail.”

At Omar’s suggestive words, Jharol opened his eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn’t that he wanted to be paranoid about the subject, but it did turn out to be too much of a coincidence.

“I don’t think anyone, no matter how influential, can manipulate people’s lives like Omar thinks he can, even if he is the president.” Rebeka gave her opinion on the matter as she pushed the dishes away from the table and set about opening her laptop. “A person like that must have his mind occupied with other matters, such as stabbing other people in the back. I rather believe that everything is a coincidence and that we have in our hands the necessary tools to get out of this situation.”

At the site, where the countdown for the camera time started, Rebeka proceeded to open the cancellation options. As soon as she finished writing an apology message, she pressed the post button.

Just as she was about to close the laptop, the sound of a notification came on. ‘Whoops, someone replied.’

Curiosity piqued Rebeka’s interest, and with her gaze, she could identify that it was the same application writing a reply message to her.

“It is a pity to hear about your cancellation. Because ‘lack of equipment’ was marked as a reason for cancellation, you are hereby informed that, since this account is in the top 10, for a quarter of half of the earnings, you qualify for a VIP room with all the necessary resources for training at the hotel "Continental, ‘the same place where the other models live and work, located in the city center’”

Conveniently, the perfect solution to Rebeka’s problems was before her eyes. Necessarily, she didn’t have to suspend the cam session if she could do whatever she wanted elsewhere. The website owner would make a profit if he kept his models, and it didn’t look like it was a trap set up to hurt him.

After thinking about it a few times, Rebeka turned her computer over to show Omar the message.

Curious about his girlfriend’s behavior, the boy looked down and set about quietly reading the message on the screen.

“I don’t like it at all,” mentioned Omar.

For him, things outside the house, outside the comfort area, and under other people’s control were not to be trusted.

“What is it?” asked Jharol.

Rebeka growled at her father as one who didn’t want a stranger meddling in his business, as he was sure to give a negative answer.

“Heaven is the highest-paying website because it doesn’t offer the benefits of a private room. It can also be seen by everyone in the city; they can use it to follow your footsteps,” said Omar, further solidifying the reasons why he was showing his suspicions.

Following in the footsteps of government people who want to control everything and situations that are not coincidences, Rebeka was more than familiar with her boyfriend’s paranoias and had good arguments to debunk them.

“The other top ten girls on the site have very similar rooms and can get together by supply and demand. That means they work in the same place, which, perfectly, could be this building.”

  “I don’t think Omar is wrong,” said Jharol, after superficially understanding what was going on. “Both he and you need to rest and watch each other’s backs.”

 If one paranoid was enough, imagine two. Rebeka couldn’t live that way; she couldn’t stand a life of fear because, simply put, it wasn’t living.

  “Stay out of it, can’t you see I’m in this situation because of you?” said Rebeka, mumbling.

  Jharol understood that eating at the table made him look like nothing more than a dog in the eyes of his daughter, who refused to forgive him. The father decided to take a deep breath and control the helplessness he felt. If only everything were as easy as it was in the past, if only by just saying no or threatening to punish, he could solve things, but he did not live in the past. Now he had to be an understanding father, although that feat was becoming more difficult with every insult from his daughter.

  Omar could see in his girlfriend’s eyes that everything was already decided. He knew his beloved’s mind and understood that she was intelligent enough to argue reasons why she should do something before giving up in difficult times and no poorly reasoned argument would stop her or change her mind.

 She also understood that she was there, not to think, but to accept, love, and support the decisions of someone she had always trusted and who knew what she was doing. He wanted to care and work to get everything she wanted; after all, that was what white knights in the movies were like, who applied the key to maintaining a relationship for so long. Say yes to every whim your girl might have, work for it, and apologize, even if you don’t have to.

  No sooner had she argued with her father than Rebeka returned her gaze to where the black-haired young man sat, who, with an understanding look, nodded at the proposal.

  Happy as someone who had received a gift could be, Rebeka jumped up from where she was sitting and, after extending her hands, returned the laptop to the front of the table. It took her no more than a second to accept the benefits being offered. 

  “Amazing VIP services!” exclaimed Rebeka in awe. “I have a private cab.”

“No,” said Omar, tapping the table gently. “That won’t be necessary. You can go by yourself in a cab from any company you want. I’ll feel safer that way.”

  Rebeka remained thoughtful; after all, the address of the hotel was written on the screen, and as she remembered, that place was in the middle of the city, making it impossible for even public transport to reach. But going by bus or train would take her a long time, compared to calling a cab, which, in maybe five minutes, would be right at the entrance of her house.

   Before Jharol’s eyes, who had his hands on his head, it was very late; it was almost seven o’clock at night. A good part of the street lights were out for a girl of her age to be wandering around. It was convenient to have the idea of a private cab, but as it was not possible to check at all, the idea that Omar’s father was in control of many things and that going by personal transportation made it a safer option to consider, so he left aside the idea that if someone controlled a cab, he could also control all means of transportation. As a father and under the conditions in which he had been released from prison, he could do nothing but wait up all night until his precious girl arrived there, in front of the door of the house, praying for her safe return.

Rebeka grabbed her cell phone, and after opening the cab app she had installed for the first time, she made the offer to be transported after putting in the two addresses.

“In three minutes, it will be here,” said Rebeka in surprise.

As one who didn’t have much time to hear the opinion of someone she had lost all respect and regard for, Rebeka left the table. She took her plate and her boyfriend’s plate to the sink, turned, and ran upstairs in the direction of her room to prepare the clothes and things she might need for her cam session.

Omar put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, as if looking at the curious patterns that formed the material. 

“Are you going to let my daughter go out alone at this time of night?” the father asked him, with a tone of concern.

Omar raised his head, kept silent, and looked into Jharol’s eyes. The look of a worried man could reach deeper than his words. Not daring to say anything, the boy took a deep breath and showed that he didn’t agree with what was going on either.

“Well, Omar” Jharol lowered his voice and leaned forward as if he wanted to say something in secret. “Listen to me. What do you think about my daughter?”

Omar was surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Despite all her problems, can you imagine making a family with her?”

After swallowing dryly, Omar knew that every time he spoke, he could put his foot in his mouth. But sincerity at a moment like that was required, and although it would cause discomfort, words that come from the heart need not be repressed.

“Yes. I love her with all my heart.”

Jharol leaned back; he didn’t have much choice, but he couldn’t act irrationally either. Putting aside that Omar was the son of the guy he hated the most, that he looked like the delinquent he did, and that he wasn’t very much in the present, he wasn’t a bad guy.

“Listen to me, Soe’s, and my happiest days were when we saw that little girl come into this world. When she learned to talk, every moment she smiled or asked a curious question, Unfortunately, the happy bubble of this family burst before my little girl could be old enough to fend for herself. In all these years, she lived with her mother as the only thing she had left. A mother who, although she wanted to give everything, had nothing to give, who left recently, and a father who was never there. Now I realize that, for her, you are the only thing she has left, the reason she may still be living. Tomorrow, the worst may happen, and she may end up back in jail. That’s why I think this is the perfect opportunity to give you my blessing. Omar, if you agree, will you take care of my little girl in my absence?”

“It will be my pleasure.”

Omar didn’t even have to think to answer, which pleased his father-in-law.

“It’s not that I want to ask the impossible of you,” Jharol continued. “If she doesn’t want you to take care of her, it’s not like you can do much. Look at my case, but if she lives and needs you, please take care of her.”

Committed to being solid, transparent, and honest as his only chance to find redemption for the promises he had made and failed to keep in front of Soe, Omar regained the glow of youth he had lost.

The three minutes flew by.

Rebeka went downstairs. The silence she had felt in the room was uncanny, but ignoring it, she heard the sound of a car horn.

Omar stood up, which made Rebeka stop in her tracks and say:

“No way; you stay in the house. You need to rest.”

After putting the chair back where it belonged, the young man moved forward with a half-smile.

“I wanted to walk you to the door, honey,” said Omar, as if he understood the situation and would not resist what was inevitable.

Pleased by her boyfriend’s attitude, Rebeka didn’t even look at her father and walked out the door to get into the cab she had hailed.

“Just in case and to put your mind at ease, I plan to leave my phone’s location on. Don’t worry about me; I have a good feeling about this.”

Omar walked to the street and knocked on the window on the opposite side of the cab driver, which caused him to roll down the glass.

An older guy wearing glasses and looking like he was trying to look as professional as he could paid attention to the caller.

“Do you need help with luggage? What to open the trunk?” asked the cab driver in a helpful manner.

After understanding that the subject was putting on airs of confidence, Omar replied.

“No, she is all I have. I hand her over to you.” 

After getting into the back door of the vehicle, Rebeka tried not to let her boyfriend get sentimental or cause any more problems for the cab driver. She confirmed the address of where she was going, and after leaving the window open, she waved goodbye to Omar, who waved back until she lost sight of her.

After driving away from the neighborhood where she was raised and grew up, sitting in the back seat and straining not to look back, Rebeka came back to the present moment when she heard:

“You have people who care a lot about you, miss,” said the cab driver.

"Yuno,” she said. She could no longer be who she was, but she had to play her role. Behind a mask, everything became easier, less heavy, and better.

“Yuno, the Continental Hotel is in a good area; you have nothing to worry about. Enjoy the trip, and if you want to stop somewhere else, let me know.”

Once in the city center, on what was a silent ride, the lights were coming in through the cab window and literally pushing away shadows of different colors. Rebeka tried to calm her nerves; she knew she was close to reaching her destination but also that she didn’t belong in the city.

The women on the street had fancy dresses, heels, and expensive handbags. In contrast, she carried a denim backpack and was dressed in a long-sleeved blouse, pants, and matching shoes. Anyone who saw her wouldn’t say she was selling her body on camera, but the accessories and erotic garments were inside the bag, which she guarded with great suspicion. After all, she didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention on her way there or on her way back. But if it was Yuno, why not dress and act accordingly?

‘This gentleman has had to see many particular cases in his work of other women behaving in a daring manner. Mmm, what if I changed and put on my work uniform? ‘Sure, I’d have to take off’ everything’ I’m wearing, and even though he’s an older man, as professional as he is, I suspect he wouldn’t be able to control himself... It’s night, and we’re on the move. I guess no one could see me from outside, at least not for long...’, Rebeka thought nervously, trying to control her breathing.

‘In case he wants to touch me, will you let him? After all, I’m paying for the trip with money, but for more than just the trip, I should pay him with my body... Mmm, although she saw Omar leaving the house with me, without a sweater, with his head bandaged, and talked to him before I got in the car, I don’t think that would help much. He might be suspicious, afraid of me reporting him, losing his job, and the honest life he has. But if he was going to touch me or do something to me, it wouldn’t hurt if I filmed him and said, "You can do whatever you want to me, as long as my boyfriend can see it afterwards." No, that would be suspicious and unfair to him. Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t be who I am and not pretend to be; it’s the same as pretending to be who I’m not. Nevertheless, I feel as if these lights speak to me, expose my true self, and illuminate the shadows in my cowardly and hesitant interior. I don’t belong here, but the city calls to me. It calls to Yuno.’ In the midst of her thoughts, Rebeka noticed that the carriage stopped at the entrance of one of the most luxurious hotels downtown.

   After wiping the sweat from her hands on the pants she was wearing, she realized that she hadn’t been brave enough to take the risk of changing into a car with a stranger. With no choice but to grab her backpack and get out of the car, she thanked the driver and apologized in case she had caused him any inconvenience.