Page 52 of Stay Scared

The timestamp reads 2:16 a.m., one minute before the anonymous message.

You still stay up too late.

“Did you take this?”

Owen studies the photograph. “No.”

I look around the room. “You built this.”

“I did.”

“You knew my address, which window was mine, and when I was alone.”

“I had all three.”

I step closer and hold the photograph between us. “Then give me a reason to believe you.”

Owen reaches toward it, but I pull it back. His hand stops between us.

“My files carry an internal device signature. That photograph won’t have mine.”

“You could remove it.”

“I could.”

“You could lie.”

“I could do that too.”

He gestures toward the workstation beside the cabinets without stepping closer. “Scan it.”

I place the photograph facedown and move aside. Owen waits until I am clear before approaching.

The image appears on-screen. He pulls up one of his own photographs beside it. His file carries a device code, lens profile, location estimate, and internal sequence number.

The photograph from my apartment contains none of them. Only the timestamp remains.

2:16 a.m.

Owen opens a drawer containing clear evidence sleeves and removes the first. It shows me through the window while I close the latch after receiving the message. Another was taken from inside my kitchen several nights later, with my phone glowing on the counter.

The timestamp matches the night Decay Brigade emailed asking whether I was sure.

Owen places both on the desk. “These appeared yesterday inside an encrypted folder in my archive. I opened the folder while you were in Cade’s section.”

“You found evidence that someone breached your archive and still let tonight continue.”

“I knew somebody had entered the archive. I didn’t know what they left behind until I broke the encryption.”

“You could have delayed the protocol.”

Owen’s fingers flatten against the edge of the desk. “I could have. I should have.”

I turn toward the wall.

Knowing which photographs are actually Owen’s doesn’t make them innocent. One shows the same corner of Halden Coffee from several mornings in a row. Another records the route between my apartment and the garage where I park. Notes mark whether I looked over my shoulder before crossing the street and which entrance I chose at public events.

A neighborhood map links my apartment to the coffee shop. Black circles mark several corners and parking lots.