Chapter 45
Susan
Monday
I’m staring at my phone, at the AirTag location, trying to make sense of it.
Why is Jon in Greta’s house? Then again, why not?
They’ve always got on well. They’re both practical, long-term-goal-focused people.
Both career-oriented and a bit less into the fun side of life than Leesa and Samir.
We all balance each other out, I suppose.
Jon tends to gravitate toward Greta when we all get together—two like-minded people who’ll happily discuss politics and mortgage interest rates while Leesa and Samir will tell you about the new season of The Boys or how to make a strawberry daiquiri in a nutribullet.
I’m somewhere in the middle, happy in both camps.
I know Jon and Greta message each other occasionally and have done for years.
But I can’t think of a time when he called into her socially, without me.
I know how it looks. That it’s right there in giant neon letters. That I’m literally here tracking him on my phone to find out who he’s seeing, and he’s in her house.
But that’s not what this is. I appreciate that it sounds like I’m deluded, but you couldn’t imagine a more platonic friendship if you tried for a hundred years.
Maybe I’m wrong about where Jon is; maybe the AirTag is glitching.
One time Leesa told me she checked Find My Phone to see where Maeve was and it looked like she was in the sea.
Leesa had a moment of panic, before the little arrow jumped back on to dry land.
Maybe that’s what this is. But nothing has changed: it still looks like he’s there.
I type a message to Greta.
Did Jon call into you?
Greta is typing. Then nothing. Then Greta is typing again, this time for what seems like an age. Stopping and starting.
I check the AirTag. No change.
Then finally, a reply:
No, he’s not here.
Only I’m absolutely certain he is.