Nyx sits in the high-backed fitting chair behind your monitor, one boot resting on the edge of the worktable. The impersonation account is open on screen. Beside it, a folder contains every draft caption, sales total, and private reference.

"You copied the laugh incorrectly." Her gold-brown eyes remain on you. "You copied my schedule perfectly."

She lifts her phone, already displaying her lawyer's number, and sets it face up beside the keyboard.

"I know what you did. What I do not know is who taught you the parts of me I never published."