We were on the subway when four security guards carried a girl past us. They had her by the arms and legs, spread-eagled. Her skirt was thrown up over her face, and from the neck down, she was completely naked. They were dumping her out of the car. My boyfriend, Mark, shoved closer. He lifted his phone and started a TikTok Live. "Y'all, this is insane," he narrated, his voice giddy. "Subway chick stripped bare. She's got an amazing body, super pale, super smooth. You don't want to miss this. Smash that follow button, show your boy some love..." The stream was blowing up. Ten thousand viewers. I finally snapped. "Are you insane? You can't stream this!" I grabbed his phone, swiped the live feed off. As I was about to rush forward to help the girl, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me back. "You're the crazy one! That's money! Give me back my phone!" I couldn't break free. I could only watch as they threw her onto the platform. More people swarmed in. Mark slapped me, hard, across the face. "You bitch. And you're crying? Do you have any idea how much money you just lost me?" I didn't know how much he'd lost. But I knew that girl... she could have been his own sister, the one his family worshiped. 01 It was Thanksgiving weekend. After six months of him begging, I’d finally agreed to go home with him to meet his parents. It wasn't even a big trip. Just a thirty-minute subway ride from my place to theirs. As we waited on the platform, Mark held my hand, lifting his phone for a selfie, looking smug. "Babe, that outfit is perfect for the camera. You look amazing," he said. "How about we go live right now? With our looks? Total power couple. We’d go viral for sure." I didn't say no. I'd spent a lot of time on this outfit. My hair alone took four hours last night. The look was "gentle and smart," but still "sweet and obedient." Paired with my job as a college instructor, I was the perfect daughter-in-law package. Mark was a fitness coach, but his "real" job was his influencer brand. He was always editing workout videos, occasionally going live to shill some protein powder. He had just opened the TikTok app when the subway doors opened. A wave of chaos spilled out. Screaming, crying, laughing. It was a mess. 02 That's when I saw her. Skirt over her face. Bra gone. Panties tangled around one ankle. Four guards carrying her, ready to toss her. The memory, the one I'd buried for four years, slammed into me. I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I couldn't breathe. My hand tightened on Mark's, my last lifeline. But he pulled his hand away. My support was gone. My legs gave out and I crumpled to the ground, my knee cracking against the tile. A sharp pain shot up my leg. I just stared, numb, as Mark pushed right up to the girl's legs, phone high, camera aimed directly at her private parts. "Guys, this is wild. Subway girl stripped bare. Amazing body, pale and smooth. Don't miss this, smash that follow... Location is Northgate Station..." Rage flooded my system, clearing the fog. I staggered up, ignoring my knee, and lunged for his phone. The viewer count was already past ten thousand. "Are you crazy?" I screamed. "You're livestreaming this?" 03 Before he could react, I killed the stream and stuffed his phone deep into my purse. The girl's sobs were right there. "Please, stop... I won't do it again... please, just give me a piece of clothing..." "Don't look... please, don't film me... please..." "Help... somebody, please help me..." Her screams were knives in my chest. Four years ago, I was her. Helpless. No one would help. Everyone just... watched. They wouldn't let their entertainment be interrupted. I tried to push forward. "Claire, what the hell are you doing!" His voice was a snarl. My scalp exploded in pain. He had me by the hair, forcing my head back. "Mark, let go! Let go! I have to help her!" I clawed at his hands, trying to break his grip. But I stood no chance against his gym-built muscles. "Help her? Why? You know her? Everyone's watching, what makes you so special? Stop being such a goddamn bleeding heart!" The pain in my scalp was blinding. "Let me go, please, Mark, I'm begging you... I have to help her..." He just sneered. "Give me back my phone!" I couldn't get free. I fumbled in my bag, grabbed his phone, and threw it on the floor. "Take it! Just let me go!" He finally released me. But it was too late. The guards threw her, hard, onto the cold platform. A crowd instantly swarmed her. I couldn't get through. Mark, enraged, slapped me across the face. "You bitch. And you're crying? Do you know how much money you just lost me?" The force knocked me down again. I just lay there, my hand splayed out as people stepped on my fingers. Through a forest of legs, I saw her. Curled up, frantically trying to pull the skirt down from her face to cover herself. "Please, stop filming... please... Let me go, please... I'll never refuse to give up my seat again, I promise..." She was on her knees, kowtowing to the crowd, her face a swollen, purple mess of finger marks. The four security guards stood over her, laughing. "Yeah, sorry now, aren't you? You were pretty cocky in the car." "What was it? Your period? Who gives a shit about your period? That man was seventy years old! He needed the seat more than you!" "A woman on her period should stay home, not be out here asking for it." "Disrespectful bitch. You deserved it. Bet you'll give up your seat next time." Their eyes were glinting with a sick, ugly satisfaction. 04 My palm felt wet. I looked. Blood. Bright red. I looked back. A small, dark trail on the floor. Her period... A bitter wave of nausea hit me. The irony... this was the priority seating area. A girl, sick on her period, forced to give up her seat to an old man who looked healthier than most of the 9-to-5 zombies in the car. Just because he was old. And if she refused, she deserved... this. The world had gone completely insane. "Claire, are you coming or not?" Mark's voice was sharp. I looked up. The light was behind him; I couldn't see his face. Looking back at what just happened, I realized I'd never seen his face. Not really. I didn't answer. He bent down, annoyed, to pull me up. I flinched away. His patience snapped. "What's with the attitude? My parents are already texting. My sister, Maya, literally changed her travel plans just to come home and meet you. And now you're covered in filth. We have to go buy you new clothes. More money. God, you're annoying. Get up!" His complaints... My heart felt like a block of ice. This was the man I was going to marry? A family that raised this... was that a family I wanted to meet? I didn't want to go anymore. I opened my mouth to tell him it was over, but I glanced back at the girl in the crowd. The dress. It was familiar. I looked closer. The swollen face... even distorted, it was familiar. I searched my memory. A flash. Oh, my God. That girl... was Mark's sister. Maya. The one his family worshiped. The one who just got into Yale. That dress... I’d picked it out myself, had Mark mail it to her.
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