By Friday, Sofia had perfected the art of hiding, which honestly felt like an Olympic sport at that point. She moved through her week like a ghost with a day job. She only left her apartment for work, and even then she wrapped herself in layers of anonymity. Cap pulled low, curls shoved beneath the brim, mask pulled up like a shield. Half the time she felt like a witness being escorted into court, not an editorial staffer heading into Echelon.
At the office, she kept her eyes glued to the floor tiles or her laptop screen. No detours, no chitchat, no pausing by the pantry for gossip she usually enjoyed. She walked fast, talked little, and avoided every stray glance that lingered too long. She felt watched even when she wasn’t. The online world had turned her into a spectacle, and now the r
