Three dots appear. Disappear. Come back.
Cassie:I wasn’t going to tell you this but now I feel like I have to.
Logan:That sounds dangerous.
Cassie:It probably is.
I shift in my seat, glancing down the aisle. Still empty. Just me, the hum of the engine, and whatever this is.
Logan:Go on.
There’s a longer pause this time.
Then a photo comes through.
I open it.
And just…stop.
She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, soft light spilling in from the window behind her. One leg tucked slightly under the other. Bare shoulders. Something dark and delicate against her skin—lace, I think, but my brain’s not exactly firing on all cylinders right now.
And over her eyes is the blindfold we played with.
Like she’s not even supposed to see me seeing her.
My throat goes dry.
Cassie:I was…trying something.
Cassie:Like, photography-wise
Cassie:Don’t say anything mean.
I let out a quiet breath, dragging a hand over my mouth.
Logan:Mean?
Logan:Cassie
I glance at the photo again. The way she’s sitting there—unsure, but trying. Brave in a way she probably doesn’t even realize.
Logan:That might be the least mean thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
Cassie:That didn’t sound reassuring.
Logan:You’re kidding, right?
Cassie:I don’t know. I’ve never…done anything like this before.
I lean back in the seat, still staring at it.
Logan:Yeah
Logan:I can tell.
Another pause.
Cassie:Is that bad?
