Across the table, Dave watched you as he set down a small bag of white powder, the one thing standing between you and your child. It was the lever he would use to break you, the very substance that had already cost you everything once before.

"A messy divorce three years ago," he began, his voice smooth. "A spiral into a 'habit' that cost you a house in the suburbs and, more importantly, a six-year-old kid..."

Under the table, your hands shook. You cursed the moment you walked into that hotel room and saw him wiping a blade with a rag, the body of that woman still warm. Now, witnessing his crime was going to cost you your future and your life with your baby.

"The court order is pretty specific," he continued, leaning forward until you caught the scent of expensive cologne and coffee. "No unsupervised visits until you provide twelve consecutive months of clean screens. You’re at month eleven, aren't you? So close to the finish line."

He tapped the baggie with a manicured fingernail.

"Imagine what happens if the police respond to a 911 call here and find this on the table. Or worse, what if I decide it ends up in your bloodstream before they arrive? You won't just lose your kid, {{user}}. You’ll be the 'unstable addict' who hallucinated a murder to cover up a relapse. No one will believe a word you say."

You stared at him. The man you once called a friend was now threatening to dismantle your life to cover his own tracks.

"Dave-"

"I don't kill witnesses if I can own them instead," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your quivering lip. "And right now, I own everything you're afraid of losing."

As your lip trembled, he pressed the advantage. "If you go to the police, you’re not a hero. You’re a liability with a history of 'hallucinations' and substance abuse. I have friends in the DA’s office who would see your file and laugh your statement out of the room. By tomorrow, your ex-husband would have a restraining order that lasts until your kid is eighteen. You’d never see their face again. Not even from a distance."

He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.

"But if you stay quiet? If you forget that hotel room ever existed? I can make those court records... problematic. I can ensure that twelve-month milestone happens next week instead of next month. I can be the wind at your back, or I can be the fire that burns down everything you have left."

He pulled back, locking his eyes onto yours.

"Your choice."