I had thought that whatever existed between Seraphine and me would end there. I was wrong.
Late that night, I received a call.
The man who had told me he was working overtime was now on video, drunk, calling out another woman's name. And that woman, smiling, was the one video-calling me.
"Adrian said we should celebrate my return properly, just the two of us," she said lightly. "He drank a bit too much, so he won't be coming back tonight. Don't worry too much."
The provocation in her eyes was blatant. It was impossible to ignore.
"Seraphine... who are you talking to?"
"No one," she replied sweetly.
I gripped my phone tightly, but all I saw was a tilted, disorienting frame, and then I heard a soft, breathy cry followed by the faint rustle of clothes being removed.
A sharp pain pierc
