Chapter 1

The email had no subject, just a single, raw link.

I clicked it.

A forum, dark background, ugly font. "The Clean Slate Forum."

My stomach twisted.

The images were explicit, women in various states of undress, some smiling, some looking vacant.

Comments underneath, crude, dehumanizing.

I felt sick.

Who would send me this?

Then I saw it.

A photo, clearer than the others, a woman with her back mostly to the camera, but her face turned slightly, a provocative pose.

She wore a silver locket.

A unique, vintage silver locket.

My breath hitched.

It was the locket I gave Sarah, my wife, on our first anniversary.

Her grandmother' s. Irreplaceable.

My heart hammered.

The comments under this one were worse, more specific, more degrading.

"New talent," one read.

"Eager to please," said another.

My hands started shaking.

It couldn't be.

But the locket... it was identical.

The curve of her exposed shoulder, the way her hair fell.

A cold dread washed over me.

Nausea rose in my throat.

I slammed the laptop shut.

This wasn't real.

This was a nightmare.

Sarah? My Sarah?

The woman who organized charity drives, who cried at sad movies, who made me laugh every single day?

It was impossible.

The site address burned into my brain. "The Clean Slate Forum."

I opened the laptop again, slowly, like peeling a bandage off a raw wound.

The photo was still there.

The locket gleamed under the harsh digital flash.

Rage, cold and sharp, pierced through the disbelief.

Who were these people?

And how did they get a picture of Sarah, or someone who looked so much like her, wearing her locket?

A comment near the bottom, posted by someone called "Chad_Admin": "She's a local girl. Fresh meat. More to come."

Local girl.

The words hit me like a punch.

They weren't just anonymous faces on a screen.

This was here. Close.

My mind raced, a chaotic mess of denial and a horrifying, creeping acceptance.