Phantom did what they'd agreed on. After they hid the body in the bushes, he and Esai swapped clothes so he no longer looked like a character out of a slasher movie. Then Esai dropped him off near the hotel.

It was quiet. No cops. No shocked guests.

Phantom hurried to their room and unlocked the door. As soon as he collapsed onto the bed, the silence dropped on him like a starving beast. She's dead.

Ever since he'd seen that video, adrenaline had built a wall around him. He took a deep breath and pulled his laptop from his bag.

There were still things he needed to do. For now, he'd stay behind that wall. Maybe he'd never come out.

Phantom scooted toward the headboard and set the laptop on his thighs. This wasn't the first time he'd been asked to do a job like this. He'd already gained access to the DMV portal through three employees using a fake email address in the past. One had changed their password since then, but the second one hadn't. He overwrote the original registration with a fake one, deleted the access logs, and logged out.

While editing the data, he'd seen which insurance company Esai was with. That system was a bit tougher to crack, but within half an hour, he was in. 

There. He'd check for any unpaid fines tomorrow, but these were the first steps the cops would take.

Now, he had to play the furious biker boyfriend, devastated by his girlfriend's murder.

Not much acting required for that.

Reluctantly, he typed in the title of the viral video on YouTube. No Words. Just Action. Despite its horrific content, it had been online for an hour. The AI system had probably flagged it as fictional, and with most staff off-duty, no one had pulled it yet.

The number of views and comments made him nauseous. He thought of Lola. What went through her mind when she heard that speech? When the gun was pointed at her? Was she frozen in fear, realizing that hundreds of thousands of people were about to witness her death?

Even though he knew he shouldn't, Phantom clicked on the comments. That section was usually where the sewage of humanity gathered. Thankfully, all he saw were shocked responses. No one claiming she deserved this.

But no one mentioned the one who caused it all either.

Phantom noticed his hands trembling. He clenched them into fists, stretched his fingers, then clenched them again. He opened a tunnel to an internal admin interface. YouTube used a separate server to briefly store each video before it went live – meant for automatic screening of banned content.

"Great system," Phantom muttered, shaking his head. Normally only bots and moderation software had access, so security was minimal.

He entered the video's hashcode and got a short list. The first upload had been at 11:04 PM. The account was freshly made, no profile picture, no other uploads.

He dug deeper and found the mobile network provider and GPS tags. The coordinates pointed to an industrial area north of here, about a fifteen-minute drive.

His throat tightened. Fifteen minutes. She was murdered fifteen minutes from here. His breathing quickened. He forced himself back on track.

He sent everything he'd found to himself via email and stood up. Time to return to the gala. Lola's family would probably still be there. He'd hand this to the police. Before they could legally access this kind of data, they'd need a court order – that'd take hours. He didn't know if they'd even use it, but he didn't care.

As long as he made it seem unlikely that he had anything to do with the whole conspiracy.

The driveway was completely empty. There were still lights on inside. Phantom walked up. He'd been briefly introduced to Lola's mother. Her father had ignored him.

He hoped Nathan hadn't joined them yet, and that hope proved right when he found the man sitting outside, near the entrance. He was staring blankly into the distance, even when Phantom sat down next to him.

"Hey." Phantom laid a hand briefly on his knee, just to get his attention. He could imagine that any longer touch would stir up conflicting feelings.

Nathan turned his head. His eyes were red and puffy. Phantom's stomach twisted at the sight of his grief. There were so many things he wanted to say—things that might ease the crushing guilt—but he knew nothing would get through to him right now.

It was too much. His sister was dead. His father was behind it. And she'd run away because of what they had done.

Fuck—how do you even begin to process that?

"I've got info for the police," he said instead, sticking to practical matters. That had helped him get through the last two hours. Maybe it would help Nathan too. "Are they still here?"

"Inside," Nathan mumbled. "I already talked to them. Told them everything. Why she ran."

The way he stared ahead, eyes hollow, gave Phantom chills. It took effort not to put an arm around him.

"Is there someone you can call? A friend, someone who can come get you?"

Phantom knew he couldn't be that person. The only thing tying them together now was Lola's death.

"Don't know."

"Can you try calling someone?"

Nathan didn't respond. Just kept staring.

Phantom wished he could do more. But he didn't even know who Nathan's friends were. What he did know was that the truth would come out. Why Lola ran away.

Nathan's sexuality would be scrutinized, and it would stain his father's reputation. One gay kid. One that had an abortion.

Phantom couldn't imagine Nathan still wanted anything to do with his father—assuming he even believed him. That was a lot to take on faith. But his dad would spin the break as being about his son's "disgusting lifestyle." 

"Please, just call someone. Don't stay alone tonight. And I'm guessing you don't want to be anywhere near your father."

Nathan's shoulders stiffened. He turned to him. "Are you really sure?"

"Brandon shoved Lola in that van. Someone I know saw it. We confronted him—he eventually admitted your father was behind it. Said this tragedy would get him more votes. Plus, he'd be rid of his troublesome daughter."

Phantom wasn't sure if saying this was smart. What if Nathan ran off and attacked his dad? Then the cops would know Brandon's last conversation was with him. Stupid, in hindsight. He'd even texted it. Left a voicemail.

Fucking dumb.

"I don't have any proof," he said finally. "Brandon's gone. I've got a record. I'm in a gang. No one's going to believe me. And your dad's going to walk free." Unless I make sure he doesn't.

He hoped Nathan would say it first. That revenge—or at least justice—would be his lifeline too.

Nathan's jaw clenched. "He can't get away with this." He shook his head, furious. "I just don't get it... why? Lola wasn't even... she wasn't someone to be ashamed of!"

Phantom rubbed his face. "After that car accident, the one where her girlfriend died, she got scared. She really believed someone wanted her dead. Never once did it cross her mind that it could be her father. I bet that was part of his plan. But her friend ended up driving instead."

Nathan was breathing hard. "I can't even... I'll never be able to look at him again."

A heavy silence settled between them. Phantom let it sit. Let the anger and disgust build.

"He doesn't deserve to live," Phantom said eventually. He looked sideways, gauging his reaction.

Nathan's eyes widened. "You want to kill him?" he whispered.

"Yeah. Don't you? He murdered your sister. And sure, you were his golden boy, but who knows what he'll do to you? What if he sends some hired homophobic thugs after you next? Another 'problem' solved."

Fear flickered in Nathan's eyes. Phantom could tell he didn't have it in him to kill someone.

That didn't matter. Phantom wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty. They were already soaked in the blood of bastards who'd had it coming.

And he was starting to notice a pattern. They were all fucked-up fathers. Ones who hurt, neglected, or even killed their kids.

"You can't do it. And that's okay. In fact, it's normal." Phantom looked up at the stars, searching for the one that shone the brightest. It felt so fucking unfair that his own father had been taken from him at such a young age, while there were so many fathers out there who deserved to die.
Again, his thoughts drifted to the past. To home. He rubbed his temples, where a painful pressure was building. What he'd thought was buried clearly wasn't.

He missed them. Suddenly, sharply. His own father. His mother. Travis. That happy life that lay so far behind him he couldn't even truly remember it. His breath trembled in his chest.

"Can you do it?" Nathan spoke so softly it was a miracle Phantom even heard him.

Phantom let his gaze sweep over Nathan's face. "I can take care of it." That felt safer than admitting he could do it himself. "But only if you're absolutely sure you want me to."

He stayed silent.

Nathan let himself be swept away by his anger less than Phantom had in the past. Maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet.

Phantom got to his feet. "I think it's best if we don't have any more contact after this. Otherwise we'll just end up feeling guilty."

Nathan lowered his head, staring at the ground. His shoulders sagged. He didn't argue.

"But let me know if you decide you want me to do it."

As a parting gesture—though he'd still see him at the funeral—Phantom placed a hand on Nathan's shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. "I hate what happened. Please let a friend pick you up. You shouldn't be alone right now." 

Nathan looked up, biting his lip. Then he nodded. "Thank you."

For a moment, he laid his hand over Phantom's. Then he let go. 

Phantom pulled back his arm and walked past him. He headed inside to find the officer who had stayed behind with the couple. Then he went back to the hotel, and had no choice but to wait for Nathan's answer.