Mysonsgf Jenny Here

He heard the clink of a coffee mug. And then, for the first time all night, silence. Not the angry, lonely kind. The kind that just needed someone to sit with it for a while.

He didn’t mean to click. But curiosity, that old devil, got the better of him.

But he didn’t. He kept watching.

The notification popped up on David’s phone at 11:47 PM. @MysonsgfJenny started a live video.

Then he typed a message to the number Liam had forced him to save three months ago: Jenny. It’s David. Liam’s dad. The coffee maker is on, and the front door is unlocked. Come home. We’ll figure out the locket in the morning. Mysonsgf Jenny

“You guys,” she whispered into the mic, her voice a frantic, breathy tremble. “I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.”

He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Jenny. Of course. For the past three months, his son’s girlfriend had been an invisible third resident in their home. She lived not in the guest room, but in Liam’s phone, on his laptop, and apparently, at this ungodly hour, on David’s own curated feed. He heard the clink of a coffee mug

He closed the app. The silence of the house rushed back in.

She held up a small, familiar object. A silver locket. David’s blood went cold. It was his late wife’s. The one he kept in the ceramic dish on his dresser. The one he’d shown Liam last week, telling him the story of how he’d given it to her the day they’d found out they were pregnant with him. The kind that just needed someone to sit with it for a while

She slipped the chain over her head. The locket settled against her collarbone, glinting in the dim light. For a moment, she looked like a child playing dress-up. Then her expression hardened.

He sent it before he could talk himself out of it.