Jenny: Mysonsgf

He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Jenny. Of course. For the past three months, his son’s girlfriend had been an invisible third resident in their home. She lived not in the guest room, but in Liam’s phone, on his laptop, and apparently, at this ungodly hour, on David’s own curated feed.

The comments section was a cacophony of support, punctuated by a few lone voices of reason: That’s stealing, Jen. Mysonsgf Jenny

He closed the app. The silence of the house rushed back in. He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes

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. For the past three months, his son’s girlfriend

From down the hall, he heard the faint pew-pew-pew of Liam’s headset, the muffled laughter of online friends. David stood up. He didn’t go to his son. He went to the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and set one on the counter.