We weren’t supposed to use names.
That was the deal.
The fantasy.
Eris:
Screw the fantasy.
Tell me who you are.
Locke:
Right now?
Eris:
No. Tomorrow.
Yes, now!
I hold my breath, my stomach fills with acrobatic butterflies, their aerial assaults making me slightly… Nauseous. Holy fuck. I’m… Nervous?
Locke:
They call me Whisper.
They being Hollow and Cipher.
The honesty hits me like a bucket of cold water, jolting my system and causing me to bolt upright in my chair. There’s finally a name where a ghost has been.
It’s a username, but it’s still more than I had this morning.
This level of optimism is ridiculous, and not really my thing. It’s more Roo than me, though that doesn’t stop me from fighting a grin.
I bite my lower lip as I think through how to respond; I want more information. Like all of it… But what do I ask for first? Or second, I suppose.
My phone buzzes again, and I frown when I see it’s not from HimLock. It’s just another fucking text from an unsaved number.
I refuse to add him to my contacts because he doesn’t deserve to take up any more space in my life.
Probably Daniel:
You look lonely at your desk.
A photo immediately pops into the text thread. It’s me, sitting here in this cubicle on the second floor… From the building across the street, if I have to guess based on the angle. He’s zoomed in enough to make it grainy, but I can make out the color of my coffee mug, just a small blip of yellow in my hand.
Bzzzt.
Probably Daniel:
You used to smile when I showed up.
Bzzzt.
Probably Daniel:
I’m so close, Anna.
