“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t mean you didn’t say it.”
“You’re rewriting everything because you feel guilty.”
“And you’re rewriting everything because you don’t.”
There was silence on the line.
Then Sanne said:
“I did what I had to do for my family.”
Thomas answered:
“So did I.”
Neither apologised.
The call ended.
Months later, the channel still existed.
Some videos remained private.
Others did not.
There were ongoing discussions between the parents, advisers, and child-welfare professionals about what should happen next.
Nothing resolved cleanly.
Mila no longer appeared in newly filmed commercial videos.
But every few weeks, an old clip of her would circulate again.
A birthday.
A hospital visit.
A tantrum.
A Christmas morning.
Moments she had experienced once but strangers could replay indefinitely.
One afternoon at school, a new student approached her.
“Are you the girl from those videos?”
Mila stared at her workbook.
“No.”
The student frowned.
“You look exactly like her.”
Mila did not answer.
That evening, she told neither parent.
At Sanne’s apartment, the old ring light remained in a storage cupboard.
Beside it were three unopened boxes sent by brands months earlier.
Sanne had never thrown them away.
And in a folder on her laptop, there was still a document titled:
MILA — POSSIBLE RETURN IDEAS.
She had not opened it in weeks.
She had not deleted it either.
