The email was still open.
Mia hadn’t closed it. She couldn’t. The screen glowed brightly in the dim living room, the white of it almost cruel against the grey afternoon leaking through the curtains. Her tea had gone cold beside her. She hadn’t noticed when.
Chris stood near the window, jacket off, sleeves rolled, one hand braced against the glass as if the city outside might move if he pushed hard enough. He hadn’t spoken in a while. Neither had she.
The first email was still burned into Mia’s chest. Photos. Dates. Locations. Proof stacked neatly like a stranger’s life laid bare.
She scrolled again, slower this time. As if something different might appear if she stared long enough.
Then the notification chimed.
Another email.
Mia stiffened. Her fingers hesitated over the mouse.
Chr
