He types it in. It doesn’t work.
“Her birthday? November third.”
He types the numbers in, but nope. Incorrect.
“We have one chance left,” he says.
Everyone is quiet. Finn suggests the name of her dog, Juliette’s birthday, and a few other possible choices. I close my eyes and conjure up Rose, then her room, trying to connect the dots on what’s important to her. There’s the photos of her friends, her makeup, her books…
I open my eyes. “Try Eden.”
“Eden? Like the garden?” Ozzy asks, holding his finger over the keypad.
“Eden, like the character.” I look at Finn, my cheeks heating at the memory of our discussion. “It was her favorite book.”
Ozzy nods, looking unsure, but he types it in and presses submit.
It goes through.
“You got it!” Ezra says, pulling me into a quick hug.
“Just a lucky guess.”
Finn shakes his head. “It’s not. Even after all this time, you know her better than the rest of us.”
“Okay,” Ozzy says, “I’m in.”
The app is buried under miscellaneous, but Ozzy finds it quickly, pulling up the application that’s already open to her Rosemary’s Baby account. He pulls up her actual profile, which gives him way more access than his fake account. This way we’re able to see a large image of her profile picture. It’s painful seeing her—so pretty. Her long, dark hair flows over her shoulders. Her lips are twisted in a seductive smile, and there’s a view of her cleavage.
Her bio is pretty basic although filled with half-truths.
Name: Rosemary’s Baby
Age: 19
Occupation: College Student
Hobbies: Sitting by the fire, reading a good book, doting on my friends.
Desires: To find that perfect Daddy that knows how to take care of his Princess, who knows how to take care of him in return.
“Seriously?” I say, fighting a gag. I can’t even imagine Rose saying something like that. It feels gross violating her privacy like this and the feeling only grows when Ozzy opens her private messages.
There are a lot.
“Holy shit,” Ezra mutters.
“It’s not a surprise,” I say. “Look at that picture. She’s gorgeous.”
“She activated the account six months ago,” Ozzy says. Finn winces. He’s made it perfectly clear that’s around when they stopped being intimate. “Messages started immediately. It looks like online, just like in real life, Rose was picky. She had high demands.”
“Like what?” Ezra asks, leaning forward.
“Money. Jewelry. An apartment in the city that she could go to when she ‘needed a break.’ She asked for a big allowance. Five hundred a month, plus the apartment. There are a lot of men that ghosted once they saw her demands. A few asked for more photos, uh,” his eyes flick to mine, “naked ones mostly.”
His finger hovers over the stash of private photos. I snatch the phone from him. It’s not that I’m jealous. I’m not. But Rose had these set to private for a reason. These three knuckleheads are the last ones that need to see them.
“I’ll look and see if there’s anything important.”