Page 170 of Hide And Seek

“I just can’t believe they let him out,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “They know he did it. He literally admitted it in thosevideos. And that’s on top of all the evidence they already had against him.”

Rhys’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “The legal system can be all kinds of fucked up sometimes,” he said. “And if he’s one ofthoseMattners, that explains it even more. That family has obscene amounts of money. So they’ve probably had an army of lawyers digging for loopholes ever since he got arrested.”

My shoulders sagged, and I let out a heavy sigh. “God, it’s just so fucking unfair,” I muttered, shaking my head again.

Ethan’s smug face filled the screen then, smiling at all the reporters shouting questions at him while security guided him down the courthouse steps.

My stomach turned.

I glanced over at Rhys and realized he was scrolling through something on his phone. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Just checking the weather in Seattle,” he replied casually. “I’ve heard it’s really nice there this time of year.”

I blinked at him. “Theweather?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged lightly. “I was just thinking… maybe a vacation could be nice.”

“We’re literally on vacation right now.”

“I know, but you’ve never been to Seattle before,” he replied. “And it could actually work out well for you professionally too. You could reach back out to some of Mattner’s victims and do follow-up interviews about how they’re coping now. What his release means for them. Whether they feel failed by the system.”

“They must be terrified,” I murmured, rubbing at my temple. “But they’re probably getting flooded with requests already. Every journalist in the country is going to be chasing statements after this.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a stranger to them, and you’ve already built trust with them. So they might actually want to talk to you again.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I hesitated, head tilting slightly as another thought occurred to me. “Wait. What exactly wouldyoube doing in Seattle while I’m working on all this?”

Rhys’s eyes flashed with dark amusement. “Exactly what you think I’ll be doing.”

“Killing Mattner?”

The amusement faded from his eyes. “I told you I’d always run these things by you first,” he said. “So I’m asking now. Is it okay with you?”

I stared at him for a moment without answering. The television was still murmuring in the background, reporters talking over one another while footage of Ethan Mattner walking away from the courthouse looped on the screen.

I wanted that sick asshole erased from existence, and sitting beside me was a man who would actually do it. Not just rant online about how people like him deserved to die. Not just fantasize about it or wish someone else would do it.

Actuallydo it.

I thought about all the women I’d interviewed at the Voices Unbroken summit. About one of them crying halfway through our conversation because she still couldn’t sleep with the lights off. About the one who checked under her car every morning. About the one who’d never be able to speak again.

Then I thought about the videos from prison. Ethan laughing. Mocking the women. Smiling while he talked about what he’d done like it was some hilarious joke.

I looked back at the TV. He was grinning again on the screen. Smug. Free. Practically untouchable.

But not entirely.

A strange feeling settled over me then, heavy and electric all at once.

Power.The kind that could decide whether someone lived or died.

Rhys had placed it in my hands, not because he needed my permission, but because he'd meant what he told me after we got together: that he'd always talk to me about these things first, out of respect for me.

A few years ago, the idea of agreeing to ‘let’ my boyfriend murder someone would’ve made me recoil with horror, even if the person in question was a remorseless psychopath who’d harmed many innocent lives. Back then, I’d believed in the idea that the truth, once exposed clearly enough, would eventually do its job to deliver justice.

I’d believed in that because it was mostly true.

But ‘mostly’ wasn't ‘always’, and the events at Camp Blackpine had finished off whatever was left of my faith in certain outcomes. Some people were simply never going to be reached by the system, no matter what you put in front of it. No matter how airtight the evidence, how damning the testimony, how many journalists filed the story… they would just get away with everything.