32

She had clearly found someone to replace me. I was happy for her; she needed an assistant, and I obviously couldn’t be that person. But what my trained eyes saw were videos that were extremely choppy, the cuts not matching, the quality poor. The pictures hadn’t been taken in good lighting, and the digital mastering hadn’t been smoothed out; it appeared like she was trying to hide her imperfections and had done a shitty job.

I returned to the post from a few hours ago.

The one that was so unnecessary, so callous and self-serving.

“Someone’s going for the sympathy vote, huh?”

I sighed. “Yep.”

“Should I tell that honey babe that jealousy isn’t a good look on anyone?”

My hands began to shake, my stomach churning.

“Do you think everyone knows she’s talking about me—but not really talking about me because we both know I didn’t stab her anywhere, especially not in the back? I mean, my God.”

“I think her stalkers do, but that’s it.”

I felt my eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“You just lande