it’s the strangest thing, but all the messages are a blur when I try to access them
take a look for yourself
He sends me several screenshots, and sure enough, all the text in the DM between ruby.ocampo and ruby.ocampo is obscured behind a gray haze.
Ahmed:
i checked several other people’s DMs with themselves for comparison—yours is the only one like this
same thing across multiple devices
how did you do that? Pretty genius hack
Ruby:
oh gosh, it’s a long story
I’m sweating even though it’s frigid in this dressing room. The little hairs on my exposed back stand on end.We’re actuallysafe from being seen in there.Something about this haunting must obscure our conversations from the admins.
I could ask Mom for help. Ishouldask. People are counting on me to figure this out.
“Ruby?” Mark Winterson calls from outside the dressing room. “You good?”
“Do you need help?” the saleswoman’s voice chimes.
“Just a minute!”
I struggle braless into the dress, and it squeezes me like a tube of toothpaste.
“Stunning!” the saleswoman exclaims. “A vision in green.”
“Mm.” Mark Winterson squints. “Of course, you’re stunning in everything. But not quite right for this occasion.”
“All right, something more classic but not too plain,” the saleswoman says. “And it’s a wedding, so no white or black. How about…”
She disappears into the back and returns with a navy floor-length gown with a plunging back.
In the dressing room, I’m halfway out of the green dress, but it’s so skintight, I feel like a molting snake. I could use a breather, so I sit for a second and open Slack on my phone.
I’m being selfish and messy for a good cause!Does that count as an affirmation?
I hold my breath like I’m about to dive into a pool and start to type.
ruby.ocampo:
Mom, I’m trying to find something. Could you help me?
Can you see Mark Winterson’s work drive on there? Do you have access to that?
Just to rule something out, for my peace of mind.
I’m walking a narrow tightrope here, trying to ask for help and not ruin this for her at the same time.
sampaguita72:
Hmm let me see
She doesn’t write back right away, and Mark Winterson is waiting—I can practically see him tapping his foot, sitting in that chair—so I shimmy out of the green dress and into the navy one.
