Your phone glowed on the bed. Two messages. One from Marcus. One from Molly.

You were drunk. Not blackout. But enough. Enough to think sure when Marcus asked. Enough to think fine when Molly asked.

You sent the homework to Marcus. You sent the pictures to Molly.

The second your thumb lifted, the room tilted. The buzz evaporated. Cold, sharp clarity slammed into your chest.

Your thumb smashed the corner of the screen. Hold. Delete. Delete. There was no delete.

You refreshed. Nothing.

You refreshed again.

Both read receipts flicked on at the same time.

Marcus was typing.

Molly was typing.

Your phone buzzed.

The phone vibrated in your hand like a live wire.