He didn’t mean to click. But curiosity, that old devil, got the better of him.
David’s thumb hovered over the ‘Report’ button. He should wake Liam. He should march into his son’s room and say, Your girlfriend is in my bedroom, live-streaming to four hundred strangers with your mother’s heirloom.
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
“If he wants it back, he can come get it himself,” she said. “Tell me I’m worth the drive.”
David watched, confused. Doing what? Packing? The chat on the side of the screen scrolled in a frantic blur. He didn’t mean to click
Five minutes later, the live stream ended. The silver locket lay back in the ceramic dish on his dresser. And at 12:31 AM, the front door creaked open.
“You guys,” she whispered into the mic, her voice a frantic, breathy tremble. “I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.” He should wake Liam
But he didn’t. He kept watching.