The living room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I sat at the dining table, my laptop open in front of me, displaying our shared digital calendar. The event was marked simply as “Meeting,” a recurring entry every Thursday at 4 PM. The organizer’s name wasn’t familiar. I felt a chill run down my spine as I tried to remember if I’d seen this entry before. “Who is Lydia?” I muttered under my breath, the words hanging in the air like an unwelcome guest.
I clicked on the event details, hoping for clarity. The location was always set as “TBD,” and the description was left blank. I checked the calendar history, noting the event had been recurring for six months. My heart pounded louder than the hum in the kitchen.
I picked up my phone and dialed his number, my fingers trembling slightly. “Hey, it’s me,” I said when he answered. “Do you have a moment?” His reply was casual, almost too casual, “Sure, what’s up?” I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. “Nothing urgent,” I heard myself say. “I’ll catch you later.” I ended the call, feeling the weight of the questions unanswered.
I needed to know more, but where to start? My eyes drifted back to the screen as I resolved to dig deeper, even if I had to piece it together one cryptic clue at a time.
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