SEXT

“I have IT tracking possible perpetrators at the moment, but there’s only so much they can do. Whoever did this used a VPN and external routers, bounced their signal all over the place to scramble the trail. It’s unlikely we’ll be able to definitively pin it on anyone. In the meantime, we need to be able to tell our shareholders that we’re doing something to deflect this.”

My brow furrows in response to her continued frown. I don’t like the way this sounds. “What does that mean exactly…?” I ask slowly, afraid of the answer. Afraid of the way she’s already looking at me with pity in her eyes.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stay out of the office for the time being.”

I can feel myself surging to my feet. My face was already flushed from embarrassment, shock, horror. Now it goes redder with anger. “I’m being suspended?”

“Not suspended. We’re just asking you to use a few of your vacation days right now.”

“That’s insane. Ridiculous. I’m being victimized and I get punished for it?”

“You know what the internet is like, Clove. You know how often things like this get leaked. Why would you put pictures like this out there in the world, knowing how easily they could be leaked? Why would you sign yourself up for this risk?”

“I didn’t—”

“You have to take responsibility for your actions.” My boss’s expression closes off. Shifts from pity to pursed-lip disdain. “I’m sorry that it has to come to this, I truly am. But we cannot allow such actions to go unchecked. As soon as we’ve completed our investigation, and we’re satisfied that we’ve either stopped the ongoing threat or determined who is at fault for these photos, then we can reinstate you as a full-time employee. Assuming, of course, that you will keep our company values in mind in the future, as you continue forward as an employee of our company.”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, Clove, but for now, our decision is final. Please collect your things and head home for the day.”

“This is crazy. It’s the 21st century.”

“Exactly. With 21st century benefits come 21st century dangers. I hope you keep them in mind next time you trust someone with incriminating photos like these, photos that go against everything our company stands for. And also against our employee code of conduct form, I might add.”

I clench my fists at my sides, but force myself to nod as though I agree. As though I understand. As though this isn’t complete bullshit. My stomach churns even worse than ever, roiling with anger and confusion and underneath it all, fear. Sorrow. Who did this to me? Why?

They’re clearly out to get me in particular. This wasn’t some random cyber troll attack. They deliberately went out of their way to get my picture, post it to my company’s social media sites, and email my coworkers and boss to ensure they saw the photo. Why? What did I do to them?

I think about that all the way home. About who I may have offended, who I may have pissed off somehow. Who would want to hurt me like this? To undermine my career and my social standing?

I can’t think of anyone. It’s not like I go around making enemies. I’m a normal person with normal friends and a few ex-friends I’ve drifted away from. Nobody out to get me. Nobody who hates my guts.

My head hurts. This isn’t happening, I think. I want to think. I want to believe. But no matter how often I think it, reality still stands.

My life is about to be ruined.

7

When I walk into my building, I automatically check the counter, praying that I’ll see a familiar, sympathetic face there. Instead, Paul just waves at me, a bored smile on his face as he buzzes the door open. I grimace and walk past him, trying not to think too much about why I’m already so anxious to see Zayne.

Plus, part of me is thinking about this photo already. About what it means. About who had access to it… Because I only ever sent it to one person. But I don’t want to think that. I don’t want to believe it.

It couldn’t be him. Could it? Maybe someone stole his phone. Hacked his account. Or maybe my phone got hacked—I sent the pic to him over bar wifi. That’s not the most secure connection.

Just as I step across the threshold into my apartment, my phone rings. I glance down at the caller ID, breath held. Celeste. Thank god. I answer it right away, say hello in a strained voice.

“Oh god, Clove honey, I just saw.”

“I don’t know what happened.” My eyes sting. “How could somebody do this? Why? And who would want to?”

“Slow down, slow down. First question first. How? Who took this picture?”

I swallow hard, to calm my racing heart. “I did.”