I picked the phone up with shaking hands and stopped the video. My throat felt tight. Someone had filmed us. Someone knew my number. I sat on the floor and stared at the screen until the words “Unknown Number” blurred.
I called Michael.
He answered on the second ring. “Favour?”
“Someone sent me a video,” I said. My voice came out thin. “Of us. Last night. In the room.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “Where are you?”
“Home. Getting ready for work.”
“Stay there. Don’t go in today. I’m coming.”
He hung up.
I waited by the window. Every car that passed made my stomach jump. Twenty minutes later a black car stopped outside. Michael got out, still in the same shirt from last night, and walked straight up the stairs to my door. I opened it before he knocked.
He stepped inside and locked
