Jessica gave a faint smile and a barely perceptible nod. It was a mere nod of acknowledgement, but she was happy to allow the MP the misconception that she had made a promise. When the MP finally stood up to leave, Jessica stole a look at her shoes. They looked like Manolo Blahniks. Did the MP just visit her in the hospital in a pair of heels that possibly cost more than a thousand dollars? Jessica decided that she now detested the woman.

The second person who tried to convince Jessica not to talk was Andreae.

“Remember the girl in the US who was abducted at the age of ten and kept a sex slave in the dungeon for years and years? When she was eventually rescued, she sold the exclusive rights to her story for a million dollars. You can do the same!”

“You are deluded,” Jessica laughed.

“Your story is one of a kind. You have to monetise it!”

Jessica waved off Andreae’s proposal as scatterbrained foolishness. But it was really Chong Jin who made it clear Jessica should not be talking to the media.

“Tell them you were unconscious the whole time. Tell them you awoke in the ambulance only to find your jeans pulled halfway down, a migrant worker you did not recognise lying unconscious and a hunky STAR team member at your side.”

“This is not funny.” Jessica slapped at his hands that were trying to unbutton and remove her denim shorts. “I’ve already told the police what happened. I can’t tell a different story to the media.”

“Yes, you can,” Chong Jin insisted, his hands back at the task of removing the piece of attire, Jessica’s resistance fanning his lust. “Claim that you had given the first statement in a state of denial, like the MP suggested. She has already made it clear she will help you. Be smart and go with the flow.”

“But Haroon’s statement will contradict mine.”

“That man is in a coma. There’s no telling if he will ever wake up.” Chong Jin persisted, winning the tussle over the denim shorts and moving on to the T-shirt. “Even if he did, whose statement are they going to believe? A migrant worker who suffered a concussion? Or a young woman from Singapore who was a victim of a riot started by a bunch of unruly foreign workers?”

Muddled thoughts swarmed Jessica’s mind. She had thought it was as simple as telling the truth, but the advice from the MP, Andreae and Chong Jin had complicated matters. She gave up ruminating and surrendered to Chong Jin’s ravaging. Afterwards, she heard Chong Jin murmur “love you” as he gently kissed the fresh bruises on her wrist.

She got up to dress when Chong Jin suddenly emitted a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“If the activation beep had come thirty minutes later on the night of the riot, it would have been perfect.”