I’m blocked by Camilla, thrusting a champagne glass in my face almost immediately; it’s like she knows my intention and is telling me to back off without saying a word. The glass she gives me is of something clear, and I notice the weird oily swirl running down the center as though something alien has been freshly poured in.

I glance from the drink and back to Camilla, catching sight over her shoulder of the girl I’d been about to rescue, being fucked in a corner, pounded against in the most vulgar way, while her face is that same gaping emptiness, and I recoil, nausea rising up. From here, all...