Elias spun around. The chair behind him was empty. The shop hummed on—the hiss of the espresso machine, the clinking of porcelain, the muffled chatter of strangers. He looked back at his screen. The timestamp in the filename——represented the exact millisecond the shutter had clicked.
He checked the time: . It was a gray Wednesday in early November. Outside, the first real chill of autumn was rattling the windowpane. He took a final sip of his lukewarm latte and clicked. Download 1667490753020 jpg
In the photo, he saw himself—hunched over his laptop, wearing his favorite frayed blue sweater. But there was one detail that made his breath hitch. In the reflection of the glass behind him, a figure was standing directly over his shoulder, holding a small, silver key. Elias spun around