Page 64 of Override

Unknown:

Probably.

Not currently succeeding though.

Despite myself, my mouth twitches slightly. God. This person is strange. Another message appears before I can answer.

Unknown:

You stopped crying eventually. That seemed statistically positive.

A soft disbelieving laugh escapes me before I can stop it. The sound surprises me almost as much as the text itself. Because somehow the concern hidden beneath the awkward wording feels more sincere than if he’d simply asked whether I was okay.

Me:

Who are you?

This time the typing bubble takes longer. Long enough that my heartbeat slows slightly while I wait for it.

Finally…

Unknown:

Someone who doesn’t like him very much.

The warmth from moments earlier fades immediately. Ronan. He means Ronan. My fingers tighten slightly around the phone.

Me:

You work for him.

This time there's no delay at all. The response comes back.

Unknown:

Absolutely not.

Me:

You have to work for him. Tell him I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.

The second the message sends, embarrassment floods hot through my chest. Because now it sounds ridiculous written out like this. Small. Like I’m asking permission to exist comfortably inside my own life.

Three dots appear. Disappear.

Unknown:

That sentence alone makes me want to commit several felonies.

A shocked laugh slips free before I can stop it. I clap my hand quickly over my mouth, glancing instinctively toward the empty hallway. My heart slams for entirely different reasons now. This should feel frightening. Instead it feels absurdly easy talking to him.

The typing bubble appears again.

Unknown:

Still want me to prove I’m not his?

My stomach tightens instantly. Because this is the moment where instinct matters. My father spent years teaching me that fear and intuition were not always the same thing. Fear made people freeze. Instinct kept them alive.