Scott rubbed his cheeks again, coughing back tears. He’d not always been so quick to cry, but something had happened during his twenties. He’d drowned himself at Natalie’s funeral.

He needed to wake up; this couldn’t be happening.

“I haven’t told you the best bit yet,” Casey went on. “I’ve set up an email list with all the staff in your school on it, like I mentioned. But I’ve also put Natalie’s parents on there, a few local newspapers, some online clickbait websites that would eat this up. With a single press of a button – poof, your life will never be the same again.”

The previous night they’d held each other into the early hours, talking softly about how happy they were, how well their marriage was going. She’d told him she couldn’t imagine being with anybody else. She’d even teared up a little, as they clung tighter and tighter.

Where had that woman gone? Had she ever been real?

“I’ve set up a draft, so the email will automatically send in twenty-four hours. If anything happens to me, the email will send. Every twenty-four hours I’ll reset the timer.”

Scott imagined the head teacher’s expression as she received the email, the way it would drop, the way her eyebrows would knit and her hand would tremble on the computer mouse. He saw parents looking at him with disgusted glances, and he heard the kids jeering as he left school.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Casey beamed.

“Can you please just explain why? We can talk about this. We don’t have to–”

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll send the emails right now.”

She took her phone from the arm of the chair, typed in her passcode, and stared at him. “Don’t test my patience. I’ve had enough of that for the past year. God, you’re so slow and boring and annoying and… your phone, now.”

Scott found himself doing as she said. The threat of the videos – and the inevitable end of his career – was too high.

She took it and began tapping away.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ve cropped your dick in one of the photos. I’m going to send it to Lauren so you know I’m serious.”

He bolted to his feet. Lauren was the teaching assistant who often worked in his class. They’d never had an intimate moment.

“You can’t do that.”

Casey shrugged as she threw his phone at him. “I already have.”

The phone struck him in the chest, slamming like his heartbeat.

He picked it up off the floor.

She was telling the truth. In their text thread – which they used to discuss strictly school-related matters – there was a photo of his penis. And, worse, the status of the message immediately changed from delivered to read.

A moment later, Lauren’s name flashed up on the screen. She was ringing him.

Casey tittered. “That was quick. I’d answer if I was you. Oh, and put it on speaker. I want to hear everything. Let’s see if you can you squirm your way out of this one.”