Inside a rented apartment unit.

Mrs. Newton paced warily near the door. She had originally planned to meet at a café, but Daniel insisted she come here instead—he wanted her to see the video for herself, to “inspect the goods.”

Now standing at the threshold, she hesitated, a knot of unease forming in her stomach. Something about this fell off. Could her plan really succeed this easily?

Her phone buzzed with another impatient call.

“Where are you? Don’t you want the video? I’ve got it in hand, but I don’t have to work with you!”

“I’m here! Right at the door! Open up.”

Hearing Daniel threaten to take the video...