I tried finding something, anything. I zoomed in on the avatar of the person who posted it, rotating it slowly, my finger trembling across the glass.
The image was grainy. But faintly, it resembled a man’s side profile.
And at the corner of his lips, a smirk. Like he was laughing at me.
A flood of guesses surged through my mind: a male colleague from her company? A friend? An old classmate? But I couldn’t be sure.
I mumbled under my breath, “Who is it?”
My finger kept swiping until the screen went black. The phone had died.
Darkness.
At 8 a.m., a knock sounded at the door.
I jolted, and my phone nearly slipped from my lap. She was back.
Averie walked in with her bag still slung over her shoulder, wrapped in the same trench coat.
Her face was pale, her lips chapped, her hair slightly disheveled, and her makeup hadn’t been fully removed.
“Had meetings all night. It was hell,” she muttered, tossing her bag onto the sofa and peeling off her coat, scarf following.
I said nothing.
She came over and kissed my cheek.
“You’re up so early?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Another sleepless night?”