The EchoTech product launch party was held on a Friday night at a venue on West Second Street that someone had spent serious money on—exposed brick, ambient lighting, a bartender in a white jacket behind a marble counter, and a crowd of people who all looked like they'd been selected by an algorithm.
Mia was not there.
She was working her fourth Target overnight shift, stocking personal care on aisle nine, when her phone buzzed with a text from Jake.
They're doing it tonight. Formal engagement. His parents are here. It's in thirty minutes.
She stocked the next shelf. Then the one after.
At 10:14 p.m. Jake sent a photo.
It was grainy—taken quickly, from a distance, the kind of photo that prioritizes speed over quality. But it was clear enough. Ethan at the front of the room. Lila besi
