I was in the museum's small reference room when Leah called.
"Nora, have you seen Spindle?"
I had not checked the account since the night before. "No."
"I'm going to send you a link."
"Don't repost it."
"I haven't."
The link opened on my phone. The post was not from A Little Pig. It was from Simon's public account, the one he used to promote his audio work and local-history interviews.
"Some people are quick to accuse others of cruelty when they don't like being disagreed with. Funny how private conversations become public scandals when the spotlight is useful."
It did not name me. It did not need to.
I looked at the small gray timestamp. The post had gone up twelve minutes earlier.
"Did he mention the account?" Leah asked.
"No."
"Did he mention you?"
"No."
"Does anyone who k
