You reached for it blindly, squinting at the screen. Tom’s name. A video call.

That was strange. Tom never called. And never this late.

You answered before your brain caught up, the screen flickering to life in the dark. But the image wasn’t of his face. It was the ceiling—angled, slightly swaying, the way a phone would look if it were propped against a pillow.

The camera shifted. A slice of his jaw came into view. Then his hand. And you realized—he had no idea you were watching.