*In the media, a video is all they need.*

How did he know about the video before it was even leaked?

How did he know the media had it?

I remembered the last time I visited Daniel’s apartment.

He had three monitors set up, running professional video editing software for his marketing clients.

I also recalled Uncle Michael’s subtle threats at the family dinner last month.

Michael had mentioned helping Daniel out of a “very tight spot” with his business.

Michael owned a private lending firm, and Daniel was always drowning in debt.

I picked up my phone and called Daniel.

It went straight to voicemail.

“Daniel, call me back,” I said after the beep. “We need to talk about the video.”

I hung up and paced the living room floor.

My hand was still sore where the glass from the wine bottle had grazed my palm.

I unwrapped the bandage to look at the small, red line.

It was a physical reminder of the truth, but the truth did not seem to matter to the camera.

The doorbell rang.

The sudden sound made me jump.