There were two other women living in the house.
Ruth.
Fifty-three.
Quiet.
Careful.
She had not spoken to her daughter in thirteen months.
Katherine had confiscated Ruth’s phone on her second day.
Then there was Diane.
Twenty-six.
Diane flinched whenever a door slammed.
She rarely spoke above a whisper.
The first time Monica asked how long she had worked there, Diane simply said:
“Too long.”
Monica never pushed.
Undercover reporting required patience.
People told the truth when they felt safe enough.
Not when a reporter demanded it.
So Monica watched.
Recorded.
Waited.
She documented cash payments to the staffing company.
She captured Katherine discussing “replacement costs” for women who left.
She recorded doors being locked from the outside.
She filmed Ruth asking for her passport.
Katherine laughed.
“Why would you need that?”
Ruth said nothing.
Katherine added:
“You live here now.”
Her husband Harold was quieter.
That made him worse in Monica’s mind.
