Devi had a spring in her step as she got off the bus and walked over to the Good Time. It had been a very busy last few days, the interview requests had never seemed to stop. She felt very proud to have co-written an article that was being so much talked about: her career had taken a major step forward. But all the same she could not help thinking about Clara: though she still enjoyed her nights out, they were never as fun without Clara. Lily was good company, but there was never the spark that she had with Clara. She thought about the text messages she had sent, to which Clara had not replied: of course, this might simply be because Clara feared Trampler's reaction - Devi could not blame her for that - but one small part of Devi wondered if Clara had fallen out of love with her.
Still, Devi thought, she and Lily should have a pleasant enough night out: Lily was always happy and cheerful. But as Devi approached the Good Time and saw Lily standing outside, she saw a serious and troubled expression on Lily's face.
"What's wrong?", called out Devi.
"It's Clara, she's . . ."
"What?", demanded Devi, a horrible anticipation in her stomach.
"Well", explained Lily, speaking very quickly, "Trampler kidnapped her last night outside her apartment block, tied her up in his van, drove to Virginia to kill her."
"He killed her?", exclaimed Devi, feeling a mixture of shock, outrage and hatred.
"No", replied Lily hastily. "He was going to kill her with some sleeping pills, but she pleaded with him, and he let her out and drove off, but then turned round and drove back at her with his van. But then", she added, as Devi looked angry and horrified, "he drove the van into the grave he had dug for Clara, got out, but she ran away from him. She's back home now, a van driver gave her a lift, she said she'd go to the cops."
"You're joking aren't you, Lily?", said Devi pleadingly, but without much conviction.
"I'm not", said Lily. "Honestly, Devi, this really happened."
Devi turned and ran down the street as fast as she could.
"Where are you going?", called out Lily, sounding stunned.
"To Clara's", Devi shouted back over her shoulder. "Wait for me back here."
As she ran, Devi tried to process everything she had heard. Was Clara safe? Had Trampler gone back to her apartment and . . . but she couldn't bear to think this thought through.
She ran across the road, only the quickest glance for any traffic, and onto Hunter Street, through the entrance to Clara's apartment block, up the stairs, finally reaching Clara's door: she banged on the door as hard as she could.
"Go away!", came Clara's screaming voice from inside. "I never want to see you again!"
Devi stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, but then she understood.
"It's me, Clara", she called out.
"Oh", said Clara, in an embarrassed tone.
Devi heard what sounded like a heavy object being carefully lowered to the ground: then she heard Clara slowly make her way towards the door and open it. Devi's smile on seeing Clara quickly turned to a shocked expression: Clara's curly red hair, normally so neat and elegant, was now untidy, hanging all round her face; her blue eyes, once so bright and sparkling, were dull and downcast; and she only managed the smallest and briefest of smiles. Her face was also deep red from crying. Devi's hatred towards Trampler increased.
Clara beckoned Devi to enter her apartment, and led her into the bedroom, where she sat down heavily on the bed. Devi noticed that the table was wobbling: she suspected that Clara had seized it to use a defensive weapon. She took Clara's hand to caress it, but then stepped back in horror: there were deep cuts on Clara's arm.
"What the . . . ?", she exclaimed, but then she noticed a small knife lying on the floor, next to the table.
"What did you do that for?", cried Devi.
"Wouldn't you?" asked Clara defensively. "Don't you know what I've gone through?"
"I do know, Clara", said Devi gently, caressing Clara's hair and feeling deeply ashamed. "Lily told me all about what he did to you."
"It's not just that", blurted out Clara: it sounded as though she had been desperate to get this off her chest. "I went to the cops, but they wouldn't believe me, they said some real horrible things to me. And then my Mom, I went to her and . . . and . . . she didn't believe me either, she told me Crawley would never . . . never have . . . taken on. . ."
Clara burst into a torrent of tears.
"Oh, your mother wouldn't recognise the truth if it were shouting in her ear. All the way up Crawley's ass, she is", said Devi disdainfully.
Clara hung her head, her tears flowing as strongly as ever.
"I'm so sorry, Devi", she said suddenly.
"For what?", inquired Devi.
"Because I let him come between us. That night, I let him send you away."
"It's not your fault, Clara", said Devi firmly: she took Clara's left hand in hers and stroked it. "He would have killed you on the spot if I hadn't left. He said so himself, remember. I was there, I saw what he was doing to you, saw how much he frightened you."
"But not only that", said Clara: Devi could tell this was the information that Clara had held back the longest. "I nearly told him to kill you."
"You did what?". Devi's eyebrows were raised and she let go of Clara's hand. Was this really true? Would Clara really suggest such a thing?
"In the van . . . I asked why he was going to kill me when I hadn't written that article . . . you know, the one about Crawley stealing money . . . I asked him why . . . cos of course it was you and that other woman who wrote it . . . I mean, I stopped myself before saying your name, but he knew . . ."
Clara now cried harder than ever. There was a very awkward pause as Devi tried to take in what Clara had just told her.
"It's OK, Clara", she said eventually placing her hand on Clara's shoulder, "I know you didn't really mean it. You were in a horrible situation in that van, people will say anything when they're desperate. Don't blame yourself, Clara, it's all Trampler's fault . . . and Crawley's", she added (Devi knew, from what Holly had told her about Trampler, that he would never have done anything like this without Crawley's authorisation). "No one else's."
Clara continued to cry: Devi could not bear to see her like this. She crouched down, and began to caress Clara's hair and cheeks.
"I love you, Clara, and I've always got your back. Nothing will come between us ever again."
She hugged Clara, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. And then she noticed something: Clara began to tidy her hair, her eyes once again began to sparkle, and she smiled through her tears.
Clara hugged Devi as tightly as she could manage. She had no words to express her feelings of joy, relief and gratitude. That Devi still loved her, was embracing her, was comforting her, was supporting her, was worth more than she could ever say. For the first time since the fateful night when Trampler had entered her flat, she felt an emotion she had often wondered if she would ever feel again: happiness.
Devi took hold of Clara's right hand and caressed it, but then started.
"What's that, Clara?"
Clara looked down: Devi was pointing at the bracelet that Trampler had bought her.
"Did he buy that?", asked Devi.
Clara nodded.
"Anything else?"
Clara showed Devi the watch on her left hand, and the earrings and high heeled shoes on top of the chest of drawers.
"Shouldn't they go in the trash can where they belong?", inquired Devi.
"But they're so . . .nice", ventured Clara.
"But, Clara, these aren't real presents", said Devi. "Did he tell you why he had gotten them?"
"Yes, he said that in return for them I should keep quiet about him and Crawley", admitted Clara.
"There you are then, Clara", said Devi emphatically. "They were a way of controlling you, of abusing you. Do you really think he would have gotten you these things out of the goodness of his heart?"
Clara could not dispute this, so, as Devi had suggested, she disposed of all of Trampler's gifts in the bin in the kitchen. Simultaneously, Devi placed the knife that Clara had used to self-harm back in the kitchen drawers. Then Clara silently made her way over to the chest of drawers in her bedroom, opened it and pulled out the necklace hidden there, placing it around her neck once again. Devi had a proud smile on her face.
"You look so lovely with it on", she said.
Clara felt so strong and tall with the necklace back on: in its own way, Devi's birthday present to her was just as comforting as Devi herself. She smiled at Devi, who positively beamed back at her. But then Clara sighed.
"What's wrong, Clara?", asked Devi.
"It's just . . . all those folks were right, weren't they?", said Clara. "Those who said that something bad would happen because I was too curious", she added, in response to Devi's puzzled expression. "And they were right, it nearly got me killed."
"In what way?", inquired Devi.
Clara told Devi about her second encounter with Trampler in the County Line, and about his discovering her reading the corruption article.
"You mustn't blame yourself, Clara", insisted Devi, running her fingers through Clara's curly hair, though privately she felt guilty over the article she had co-written. "The fact that you were curious does not in any way justify what he did to you. You had every right to know what was going on: there is no excuse for his actions."
"So it would be OK then, if I go back on the Internet and start searching for things?", asked Clara tentatively.
"Why are you asking me, Clara?", said Devi. "It's entirely your choice, what you do online. Don't let him win, Clara. Just be yourself. I love you for the way you truly are."
Clara smiled again. She picked up her phone, sat down on the bed and started browsing the Internet for information about robots. Devi sat down beside her, smiling, placing her arm around Clara. Clara at first was still unsure, but gradually, as Devi continued to encourage her, she began to shake her inhibitions and to browse with her old enthusiasm.
Clara spent about an hour browsing, but then sighed again.
"What is it?", Devi asked.
"It's that he'll get off, won't he?", said Clara. "Like he said, no one will believe me. I'll never get justice."
"You can get justice, Clara", Devi assured her. "I can help you"
"How?", asked Clara, half hopeful, half sceptical.
"I'll speak to Holly, my mentor at the Post, and set up an interview with you. Let the world know what he did to you."
"But will she believe me?", asked Clara. "She's a stranger to me, how can I know if I can trust her? And she's also in a position of power isn't she? After Trampler and the cops . . ."
"You've nothing to worry about", replied Devi, in a tone half reassuring, half indulgent. "Holly is the one who has been investigating Crawley over the corruption scandal, remember. It was she who wrote that article with me, about the embezzled money. She knows what Crawley and Trampler are like, she always believes in holding the powerful to account, she always asks them tough questions."
"But then, might she be tough with me?", suggested Clara.
"Of course not, Clara,", laughed Devi. "She is tough on those in power, or those who have done wrong, not on their victims. Trust me, she will believe you."
"OK, then", said Clara cautiously.
A ping noise could be heard on Devi's phone. Devi took her phone out of her pocket and looked at it.
"It's Lily", she said. "She keeps texting me. I suppose I'll have to go back to her. Would you like to come to the Good Time, Clara?"
"I don't think so", said Clara. "I just don't feel like it, not after everything that's happened."
"Well, I suppose, if you don't to", said Devi, with a slightly disappointed smile. "I suppose I must be off, anyway."
"One more thing", said Clara suddenly. "Could you walk me home from work tomorrow, just in case, you know . . ."
"Of course I will, Clara", assured Devi. "Anything to keep you safe. Will Angela be there?", she added, rather abruptly.
Clara sighed once again.
"Yes, but please, Devi, she was so good and kind to me earlier. She and Lily came here straight after work together, and she hugged me and comforted me."
Devi stood silent for about a minute, then said, in a quiet voice,
"That was very good of her. I can see what you meant about her being such a good friend. I just hope we can at least be civil to each other tomorrow."
"Will you . . ?", began Clara.
"I'll try my best", promised Devi. "Well, I think I'll be going now . . ."
"Just a minute", said Clara quickly.
"What?", asked Devi.
"It's just . . . I don't know how I can thank you", said Clara.
"That's all right", said Devi, with a smile that suggested she knew what was about to happen.
Clara flung herself upon Devi and kissed her with a passion greater than anything she had ever managed before, squeezing Devi's top lip between hers as far it could go: Devi had to grab the side of the bed to stop herself from overbalancing, then she gathered herself and returned Clara's kisses with almost equal fervour, tightly holding on to Clara's bottom lip.
"You are beautiful inside and out", whispered Clara fiercely, in a brief pause for breath.
"So are you", replied Devi.
"I love you", said Clara in a feverish voice, after their next bout of kissing.
"You didn't need to tell me that, Clara", grinned Devi, caressing Clara's hair while Clara stroked her cheeks.
"But I love you even more now", answered Clara, before resuming her kisses.
Eventually, Clara ran out of breath, and Devi gave her a tight hug before bidding her the fondest of farewells.
The following morning, Devi arrived at One Franklin Square and strode up to Holly's desk with a determined expression.
"Morning, Devi", Holly greeted her approvingly. "You look very up for it today."
"I am", answered Devi, speaking very fast. "There's someone we need to interview, someone linked to the corruption story. A young woman, Clara Hewson her name is, who Trampler kidnapped and tried to kill to keep her quiet. You see, he had been visiting her apartment and raping her, then one day he saw she was reading our story, so he tried to kill her. But happily he failed", she concluded proudly.
"How awful", said Holly. But then she added, in a shrewd voice, "Do you know this young woman?"
"She's my girlfriend", replied Devi.
"Your girlfriend?", repeated Holly. "Then I'm sorry, Devi, but I can't do this."
"Why?", inquired Devi, shocked. "I thought you'd be on Clara's side, I told her that."
"Because", replied Holly, "it's a conflict of interest for me to interview my intern's girlfriend. Journalistic ethics are very important, Devi, you need to realise that. I didn't go into reporting to do favours for my interns."
"But this story is important", insisted Devi. " A young woman raped, kidnapped and nearly murdered by the White House Chief of Staff. Does that not matter to you? Normally you'd be all over a story like this."
"But this is different", Holly insisted. "I repeat, Devi, this is a conflict of interest. It's simply not fair that I should interview this Clara Hewson while not interviewing other abused women with no connections to this newspaper, simply because she's your girlfriend."
"You mean you don't care!", shouted Devi. "I saw Clara last night, have you any idea what she was like? She was crying, she'd been self-harming for God's sake! But all you care about is some stupid 'conflict of interest'!"
Holly looked visibly shocked: Devi had never spoken to her like this before.
"How can you say that, Devi?", she asked, doing her best to remain calm. "Of course I care, it's horrible what Trampler did to Clara, but there's an important principle here . . ."
"I don't give a shit. . .", hit back Devi.
"Now, Devi, let's not use language like that in here", admonished Holly, but Devi ploughed on as though Holly had not spoken.
". . . about your stupid principles, I want justice for Clara!"
"Please, Devi", said Holly, sounding increasingly desperate, "I understand your feelings, I have every sympathy for Clara but you must understand . . ."
"But this is connected to our investigation", persisted Devi. "The story we wrote together. It's undeniable. How can we ignore the fallout from it? How can we ignore the fact that a young woman nearly lost her life for it, simply because I happen to be in love with her? How can we pursue the corruption story, and then ignore this very big consequence? And, what's more, Trampler tried to kill Clara because he saw her reading our story. It's because of us that this horrible thing happened. We owe it to Clara."
Devi looked pleadingly at Holly, whose expression slowly changed from one of anger to abashment.
"You're right, Devi", she said. "We do need to do this interview. Where . . ."
But at this point Holly broke off. Devi looked round and saw Curtis White striding towards them.
"In my office. Right now", he said abruptly.
Once the three were in his office, Curtis slammed the door shut and stood behind his desk, glowering.
"I've told you once, I've told you a million times . . ."
"And you're wasting your breath, Curtis, I'll never stop", said Holly defiantly.
"You're dragging us through the dirt, with all this antagonising of the White House. Our reputation has never been worse", said Curtis. "And you're leading young Devi here up the wrong path."
"And I'm gonna continue up that path", replied Devi, with a mix of defiance and pride. "We're gonna interview my girlfriend, Trampler tried to kill her to cover up the scandal."
"See!", shouted Curtis triumphantly. "Now I know why you've been pursuing this goddamn story. It's because you hate Trampler."
"Damn right I hate him!", shouted Devi. "I hate him for what he did to Clara!"
"You've just proved my point!", Curtis argued back. "It's all because of some silly childish vendetta!"
"Are you really that stupid?", said Devi scornfully.
"You should show some respect to me, young lady!", thundered Curtis.
"I'll show no respect to a man who defends Trampler!", yelled Devi, in the most condescending tone she could manage.
"There you go again, your grudge against Trampler!", said Curtis, pounding his desk with his fist.
"Enough!", announced Holly, as Devi was about to unleash another verbal volley. "Come on, Devi, we're leaving this place. We'll start a website, where we can tell the truth without interference from White House boot lickers."
The two women hurried out of the office.
"You'll be sorry you left the Post!", shouted Curtis: Devi replied by giving him the haughtiest look she had given anyone in her life.
Clara came into work feeling much happier than she had done in a long time. Angela smiled on seeing her.
"So pleased to see you like this again, Clara", she said.
"It's because she's back with Devi!", smiled Lily.
Angela gave an exasperated sigh.
"Honestly, Clara, will you ever learn . . . ?"
Clara instantly burst into an account of what Devi had done for her the previous night: she was so wrapped up in the story that she failed to notice the shutters open, and Angela had to beckon to her to enter the County Line.
"Doesn't that prove she loves me?", she ended, looking at Angela with a defiant expression.
"And Devi was real horrified when I told her what Trampler had done", added Lily. "She also kept going on to me about Clara, when Trampler stopped them seeing each other, about how she missed her, she was real upset about it. When they're together, she smiles at Clara real big and compliments her all the time. She's never happier than when she's with Clara. She's totally in love with Clara. Right pair of lovebirds, the both of them."
Angela was silent for a minute, for once neglecting to start arranging the chairs and tables: Lily and Clara had to do it instead.
"Well", she said cautiously, "you do make a good case there, Clara, but . . ."
"But what?", asked Clara.
"Nothing", said Angela hastily. "You said she's coming here this evening?"
"Yes, to walk me home", said Clara.
Angela said nothing, but set about dusting the bar, deep in thought.
Clara enjoyed being back at work: the customers were also happy to have her back, though they also constantly asked her where she had been the previous day, causing her a lot of distress and discomfort. But she was back doing what she loved, and that was the main thing. She also could not wait to see Devi when the working day ended.
When the moment finally came, Clara, Angela and Lily, as always, left the County Line together. Devi was standing just a couple of feet outside the door: she smiled her brilliant smile on seeing Clara, but when she caught sight of Angela, her smile became rather awkward and embarrassed. Angela, for her part, looked uncomfortable on seeing Devi.
After Clara and Devi had shared their customary kiss, Angela said, in a high voice:
"So, you're walking Clara home tonight?"
Clara was feeling worried: please, she thought, don't get into another argument.
"Yes", said Devi, somewhat stiffly. "Clara tells me how kind you were to her last night. I would like to thank you."
"To thank me?", repeated Angela, in a surprised voice.
"Yes, Angela, to thank you", said Devi seriously. "When Clara was in the depths of trauma, you were there for her. You comforted her, consoled her. That's why I want to thank you."
Angela stared hard at Devi for about a minute. Clara looked nervously at the ground, feeling very tense. But eventually, Angela spoke, in an awkward but unmistakably friendly tone, and Clara looked up, feeling more hopeful.
"It seems I misjudged you", said Angela. "I can now see that you really do love Clara."
"That's all right", smiled Devi, now speaking with her usual warmth. "You are a true friend to Clara. I suppose I did . . . shall we say . . . talk down to you last time. And remember this, Angela, whatever our differences, we both care about Clara. That's precisely what she needs right now."
Devi smiled at Angela, who, after a moment's hesitation, smiled back. Clara also smiled, while Lily chortled:
"So it's all friends together now!"
"So", said Angela to Devi, ignoring Lily, "I hear Clara's gonna be interviewed by the Washington Post."
"Well, not exactly", replied Devi, trying to avoid Clara's eye.
"Why not?", asked Clara: the happiness she had been feeling vanished in an instant.
"It's Curtis White, our editor-in-chief", sighed Devi. "He's been on and on at me and Holly . . ."
"Who's Holly?", inquired Angela.
"Holly MacIver, my mentor, the Post's White House correspondent", explained Devi. "Until recently", she quickly added.
"I've heard of her", said Angela. "Isn't she the one who's been pursuing Crawley over that corruption scandal?"
"She is, and I've been assisting her", replied Devi, smiling proudly: Angela looked at her approvingly. "But, like I said", Devi continued, "Curtis has been on and on at us for months, trying to get us to drop it."
"Why?", asked Clara.
"Because he fears the Post won't have access to the White House any more", said Devi. "He wants to keep on Crawley's good side."
"He's a coward", said Angela contemptuously.
"You're absolutely right", answered Devi. "So, anyway, this morning, he called us into his office yet again, I told him about the planned interview with Clara, and he accused me of having a grudge against Trampler, you know, with Clara being my girlfriend, and things got kinda heated between me and him, and I suppose I did get a bit . . . superior . . . with him . . ."
"Well, you were right", said Angela.
"Thanks", smiled Devi, "so in the end Holly stepped in, and she told me we will leave the Post and set up a website, to be called truthtellers.org. And", she concluded, smiling at and placing her arm around Clara, "your interview will be the first story on there. Holly's ready to do it next week, if you're OK, Clara."
Clara nodded.
"I assume Holly's happy to do it?", asked Angela.
"At first she wasn't", said Devi. "I came into the office first thing this morning, suggested doing it, she wasn't keen at first, saw it as a conflict of interest, but I persuaded her in the end, reminded her it was because of our story that Trampler tried to kill Clara."
"Good for you", said Angela. "And you're better off getting away from the mainstream media, anyway. Far too close to the establishment, they are."
"Yeah, well, Holly's the only one in the White House press pack who asks Crawley proper questions", said Devi. "Half of them lick his boots, the other half are scared of Trampler. In fact, Trampler has been constantly at Holly, he keeps trying to frighten her to drop the corruption story, even threatened to rape her once."
"How horrible!", exclaimed Angela: Devi gave her an approving smile.
"Did he really?", asked Clara, horrified.
Devi smiled at her.
"Why are you surprised, Clara?", she asked. "You should know, better than any of us, what he's like."
"I suppose I should", sighed Clara.
"So, are we going home or not?", prompted Lily.
"We could all come to my apartment", suggested Clara. "That would be so nice."
"Well, I'm certainly up for it", announced Devi importantly.
"I think so, too", said Angela.
"Well, might as well go with the flow", laughed Lily.
So the four of them made their way down Hunter Street to Clara's apartment, and spent a highly enjoyable evening together, making small talk, watching TV, eating a cottage pie made by Clara. Devi was highly impressed when Angela told her how her mother had spoken at the Women's March in 2017, remarking that her parents would have approved, while Angela was intrigued to hear from Devi about her family's origins in India. Lily entertained them all with her jokes, while Clara reminisced about the happy times she had spent with her father when she was a little girl. Clara went to bed that night full of peace and contentment.
A week later, and Clara was nervously pacing the floor in her apartment: she knew the interview was to take place this evening, but wasn't sure what to expect. Eventually, she heard Devi knocking, as only Devi could, on the door: full of trepidation, she opened the door, and saw, next to Devi, the short stout woman she had seen on TV on the fateful day the corruption article had been published.
"Clara", announced Devi importantly, "meet Holly MacIver. Holly, this is Clara Hewson."
"How are you feeling Clara?", inquired Holly, in a voice both friendly and concerned.
Clara eyed her warily, but spoke politely.
"I'm feeling a lot better than I was, thanks. All because of Devi."
Holly smiled: Devi looked inordinately pleased.
"So, Clara", said Holly, "Do I understand that you give your consent to be interviewed?"
"Yes", said Clara nervously. "But", she quickly added, "can Devi sit with me? I need someone to reassure me."
"Of course she can", replied Holly. "But," she added somewhat sternly, turning to Devi, "Clara alone must answer the questions, Devi. This is her interview."
"I understand", replied Devi, in a much humbler voice than Clara had ever heard her use before.
Clara sat down on the bed: Devi sat next to her, holding and caressing her hand. Holly pulled up a chair from the table, switched on a tape recorder, and the interview commenced.
Holly began by asking Clara about her background, so Clara told her the story of her life, choking up when she mentioned her father's death: Devi hugged her, while Holly expressed her condolences. Clara also felt rather awkward when talking about her mother. Holly then moved on to ask about Trampler, so Clara told her about her first encounter with him, how she had met Devi later that night - she could not help bursting into smiles at this point - and how, on their first date, Devi had mentioned the corruption investigation. Clara then told of her second meeting with Trampler, and of how he had come to her apartment the following evening, but when Holly then asked what Trampler had done to her, she shook her head and did not answer.
"You must tell her, Clara", urged Devi, gently but firmly.
"I know how hard this is for you, Clara", said Holly, "but it needs to be mentioned. The world needs to know what he did to you."
Clara took two deep breaths and caressed the necklace, before hesitantly recounting how Trampler had forced her to undress and allow him to violate her: she choked with tears as she recalled it. Devi hugged her tightly, Holly looked discomforted.
"You're doing so well, Clara", Devi told her. "But you need to go on."
Clara sighed, and then, still breathing sharply, told about how Trampler had forbidden her from going to the County Line, and about the night he had forced her and Devi to split up. She spoke in depth and with passion about how he had made her feel: she had never opened up like this to anyone before. Then she mentioned how Trampler had seen her reading the corruption article - Holly looked guilty at this point - and then recounted his abduction and attempted murder of her. Again, her voice was choked as she recounted that awful night - Holly looked increasingly angry - but she adopted a bold and defiant tone when telling of her escape. Again, she caressed the necklace: it seemed to give her the strength to carry on. She finished by mentioning how she had got back to Washington, how she had been mocked by the police - she had an angry tone when talking about this - and finally, in a despairing voice, about how her mother had refused to believe her: Holly had a contemptuous look on her face. At the end of the interview, Holly asked Clara if she had anything more to say: "I want justice", replied Clara.
Holly got up, switched off the tape, thanked and expressed her sympathies to Clara, promising that she would do all in her power to secure justice, then left. Despite the traumatic experiences she had just relived, Clara felt at peace: finally, there was someone in a position of authority who believed her and took her side. It had also been a great relief to finally get it all out.
"You did so well, Clara", said Devi again. "Real brave."
"Thanks", smiled Clara, blushing.
"Would you like to come out tonight?", asked Devi, smiling herself.
"To the Good Time?", inquired Clara.
"Of course", answered Devi.
"Absolutely!", shouted Clara.
And so Clara, wearing the dress she had worn on the night she and Devi had met, not to mention the necklace, went to the Good Time that night with Devi and Lily. She did not approach or talk to strangers as she had once done: in fact, she was nervous whenever she passed close to someone she didn't know, and spent a lot of time looking over her shoulder. But she still enjoyed her night out, singing, laughing with Lily and dancing with Devi: it was by far the most fun she had had since Trampler had first entered her apartment. At the end of the night, she and Devi travelled back to Devi's apartment, and enjoyed a wonderful and passionate night of lovemaking: it seemed like an age had passed since Clara had felt so happy or joyful.
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