'You heading out?' asked Priya, the pastry chef, from the doorway.
'Almost.'
'Your table made the internet.' Priya held up her phone. A clip showed Victor lifting his wineglass as he offered a million-dollar bet. Its caption called Elena a mystery waitress who had embarrassed a billionaire. The footage cut before the contract discussion. Underneath, strangers were already choosing sides.
'Send me the original,' Elena said.
'All I have is this repost.'
'Then save it before somebody changes it.'
Priya studied her. 'Are you in trouble?'
'I don't know yet.'
The answer frightened Elena because it was true. She had spent four years making decisions around the assumption that trouble was something one could avoid by staying quiet. The evening had disproved that assumption before the appetizers were cleared.
She stepped outside into wind and wet pavement. The service alley smelled of rain on concrete and roasted coffee from a nearby delivery van. A taxi idled at the corner. Its driver glanced at her, then away. Elena walked past it and entered a busy twenty-four-hour pharmacy, where bright lights and security mirrors made her feel less alone.
She called her brother, Jonah, who answered on the fourth ring with the distracted impatience of a college student preparing for an examination.
'If this is about tuition, I'm working it out,' he said.
'It's not. Are you home?'
'Yeah. Why?'
'Lock the door. And don't open it for anyone you don't know.'
A pause. 'Elena, what's happening?'
She almost told him. Instead she asked whether he still had their father's old storage receipt. When Daniel vanished, the police inventoried his apartment and returned a jumble of office items, but Jonah had kept a yellow slip from a private storage company because he thought it might lead to a box of family photographs.
'It's in the blue folder, I think. Why?'
'Find it. Photograph it. Don't leave home.'