I’m sitting on the couch, staring at Pandora’s phone on the coffee table in front of me.
It’s been a few minutes since she got up to grab something from the kitchen, and I’ve been half-paying attention to the sound of John Mercer playing a game in his room.
Mr. Whiskers is stretched out beside me, completely relaxed, like nothing in the world has ever gone wrong.
I try to look away from the phone.
I really do.
But something about it is bothering me.
The screen is on.
Not fully—just enough to show that it’s connected to Wi-Fi.
Which shouldn’t matter.
Except I could’ve sworn she said she turned off location services.
I lean forward slightly, squinting at it like that’s going to make it explain itself.
That’s when I hear something.
A faint creak.
From the kitchen.
I freeze for a second.
Then I listen.
Nothing.
Probably just a cabinet settling or something.
Houses make noise. That’s normal.
I sit back.
Look at the phone again.
Still on that same screen.
Still connected.
Still not something I remember seeing before.
Maybe I’m misremembering.
That happens.
Pandora messes with settings all the time. Apps, notifications, whatever. Maybe she changed something and just didn’t mention it.
That would make sense.
But then why does it feel off?
I glance toward the kitchen.
Still no sign of her.
John yells something from his room—some kind of victory shout—and then immediately goes quiet again.
Mr. Whiskers shifts slightly, then settles back down.
Completely unbothered.
I look back at the phone.
What if it’s nothing?
Seriously.
What if this is just… a phone being a phone?
Connected to Wi-Fi.
Like every other phone.
I sit there for a second, trying to accept that.
Trying to let it go.
And then my brain does that thing.
What if she didn’t actually turn it off?
Not because she forgot.
But because she needed it on.
I don’t like that thought.
I try to push it away.
Replace it with something reasonable.
Maybe it’s tied to an app.
Work, maybe.
She did say she needed her phone more for that new job.
Something about staying connected.
That would explain it.
That’s normal.
That’s fine.
I nod to myself like I’ve solved it.
And then—
another sound.
This time louder.
Definitely from the kitchen.
A cabinet door.
I sit up straighter.
Okay.
Now I’m paying attention.
“Pandora?” I call out.
No answer.
Just the quiet hum of the house.
I glance back at the phone.
Still there.
Still connected.
Still bothering me.
I stand up halfway, then stop.
What am I doing?
I’m about to walk into the kitchen because of a Wi-Fi icon.
That’s not a good look.
I sit back down.
Take a breath.
Think.
Phone.
Kitchen noise.
John in his room.
Everything normal.
Probably.
I look down at Mr. Whiskers.
He’s watching me now.
Not the kitchen.
Not the phone.
Me.
Like he’s waiting for me to figure something out.
I don’t like that either.
I look back at the phone.
What if it’s not about the phone?
What if it’s about timing?
Pandora leaves the room.
Phone stays behind.
Screen stays on.
Noise in the kitchen.
It’s not a lot.
But it’s enough to make me think.
I hear movement again—this time clearly Pandora in the kitchen, opening something, closing it, moving around like everything is completely normal.
Which it probably is.
But now I’m stuck on it.
Because the phone is still right here.
Still connected.
Still not matching what I remember.
I lean back into the couch and stare at the ceiling.
Maybe I’m overthinking it.
That happens.
A lot.
But at the same time—
I’m pretty sure she said she turned it off.
And if I’m right about that…
then something changed.