Because people make mistakes when they stop pretending they’re sane.
Eris:
What if he tries something?
What if he’s already inside?
Locke:
He’s not inside your apartment or any of your accounts.
We’re watching.
I stare at that admission, and a photo comes through from the HimLock side of the app. It’s the office, from the same angle as Daniel’s, except he’s on the edge of it too, being escorted out the door by security… Which means whoever these mystery app guys are, they’re definitely following me too.
I redirect myself and file the rest of that thought away for later.
Eris:
We’re? How many of you are watching?
Locke:
I meant I’m. Auto-correct.
But it isn’t. And we both know it.
Eris:
Sure… Autocorrect. Of course.
Who am I talking to now?
I want to know who’s lying to me.
And I’d like to know how long you all plan to keep lying to me…?
I lock my phone, sink into the chair in the printer room, and breathe through the silence that creeps along my ribs.
I’m not scared.
I’m fucking pissed.
Because Daniel was here, the job is blown, and I’m surrounded by cameras I didn’t install.
But I’m also not alone.
And somehow, that’s worse.
The footage loops for a third time.
I don’t blink or breathe for what feels like minutes. My lungs ache while I just watch, frame by frame, as Daniel steps through that doorway like he hasanyright to exist near her.
She sidesteps to the left.
He reaches for her.
He fucking touches her.
