"I don’t even know him," Elizabeth said.
"But you’re smiling like you do."
Elizabeth sighed, leaning into the couch cushions. "Fine. He’s... intriguing. But it’s all digital. Low stakes. No commitment."
"And still," Jane said, watching her closely, "you’re here defending him like he just bought you flowers."
Elizabeth shook her head. "Don’t start. This is research. I’m being professional. Objective."
Jane snorted. "You’re emotionally invested."
Elizabeth didn’t deny it, but she didn’t admit it to herself either.
A silence passed between them, filled only by the distant hum of traffic outside the apartment window. Then Elizabeth sat up slightly, her expression shifting.
"I did get something weird, though," she said, almost casually. "A message."
Jane tilted her head. "Weird message from who?"
"Some guy called Wickham. Commented on my Substack of all places. Said he saw my tweet about Darcy and wanted to share more. Claimed there’s no one better than him to expose the man behind the façade."
Jane frowned. "Expose? That sounds dramatic."
"Well, I could be persuaded to hear something dramatic," Elizabeth said, her tone half-amused. "I checked his profile.Nothing flashy. No links, no self-promotion. Just a display picture. He was in some kind of military training uniform. Could be legit, could be cosplay."
"Do you think he actually knows Darcy?" Jane asked.
Elizabeth gave a small shrug. "Hard to say. If he does, then I might be onto something. If he doesn’t... It’s probably just another internet character chasing relevance."
“What did you say to him?”
“I kept it simple. Asked what he knew.”
"Any reply yet?"
Elizabeth glanced at her phone, lips tightening. "Nope. Still quiet. Doesn’t even look like he’s been online."
Jane sighed. “This is where I remind you to be careful. I don’t know what Darcy’s done to you, but you look like you’ve made it your life’s mission to unravel him like some literary mystery.”
“He has one of those unlikable faces,” Elizabeth muttered.
Jane raised an eyebrow. “He’s as handsome as sin. That’s not exactly an unlikable face.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “It’s the smugness. He walks into a room like he owns it. Like everyone else is just background noise.”
“And he said you weren’t handsome enough to tempt him,” Jane added, smirking.
Elizabeth shot her a playful glare. “I should never have told you that.”
“But you did. And it makes your tweet a lot more understandable. Still, now you’re practically snooping on the man. And some random stranger is suddenly sliding in to hand you breadcrumbs to support your takedown?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Life gives you lemons…”
Jane finished, “...you make a whole exposé.”
“Exactly.”
Jane paused, her smile softening. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
