Breach of Trust

Episode 2: The Location Ping

The plan was simple: a surprise getaway to a cabin in Big Sur for Chloe’s twenty-sixth birthday. Perry had spent weeks secretly coordinating with Chloe’s boss to get her the Friday off, and he had even bought a gorgeous leather weekender bag to pack her things in.

It was a Thursday evening, and Chloe was supposedly out at a "girls' night" with her college roommates. Perry sat on their couch, double-checking the cabin reservation. He needed to know if she was still at the restaurant so he could time his arrival home with the bags packed.

Because they shared locations for safety, Perry opened the "Find My" app.

He expected to see her icon at the trendy Italian spot downtown. Instead, the blue dot was stationary, pulsing quietly in a residential neighborhood three miles away.

Perry frowned. The address was intimately familiar. It was Terry’s apartment complex.

"Maybe they all went back to Terry’s for drinks," Perry muttered to himself, trying to shake a sudden, irrational knot in his stomach. He texted Sarah, one of Chloe’s roommates: Hey, is Chloe still with you guys? Wanted to see if I should pick up dessert.

Five minutes passed. Then Sarah replied: Hey Perry! Chloe couldn't make it tonight, she said she was feeling sick and staying in. Hope she feels better!

The room seemed to lose its oxygen. Perry’s blood turned to ice. He looked back at the screen. The blue dot was still there, glowing like a toxic ember.

He didn't call. He didn't text. He got into his car, his hands shaking so violently he could barely turn the ignition. The drive to Terry’s apartment felt like a dream sequence—blurry streetlights, muffled traffic, the roar of his own heartbeat in his ears.

He parked two blocks away. He didn't want Terry's Ring camera to catch his car. Walking up the stairs to the third floor, every step felt like a betrayal of his own mind. I'm being crazy, he told himself. Terry is my brother. He wouldn't.

But Terry’s spare key was still on Perry’s keychain from when he watched Terry’s dog last month.

Perry stood before the door. He didn't knock. He slid the key into the lock, turned it silently, and pushed the door open.

The apartment was dark, save for the flickering glow of the television in the bedroom. On the kitchen counter sat Chloe’s purse. Right next to it was Terry’s watch.

Perry walked down the short hallway, his chest tight. The bedroom door was half-open. Through the c***k, he saw Terry’s arm draped over Chloe’s waist. They were whispering and laughing, their voices intimate, comfortable, and devastatingly familiar.

"I can’t believe Perry still thinks you’re at girls' night," Terry murmured, kissing her shoulder.

Perry pushed the door wide open. The screech of the hinges cut through the room like a blade.