Chapter 2 The Photograph #3
Across the city, Lingling Kwong was sitting at her dining table, staring at the exact same photograph.
Her phone was lying beside her coffee, the screen still displaying the image that had somehow managed to spread through the internet overnight. She had received it at seven twenty-three that morning from Fluke, whose message had contained only three words.
We have a problem.
Ling had opened the photograph.
Then she had stared at it for longer than she wanted to admit.
She remembered the moment clearly—the way Orm had stumbled, the instinctive movement that made Ling reach for her before she could fall, the sudden weight of Orm against her, and the way Orm had looked at her afterward with surprise still visible in her eyes.
Ling remembered the warmth beneath her hand.
She remembered how close their faces had been.
Most inconveniently, she remembered how neither of them had moved.
Ling told herself it meant nothing.
It couldn't mean anything.
The photograph, however, suggested otherwise.
Her phone rang.
Fluke.
Ling answered.
"Good morning."
"Is it?"
Ling looked at the photograph again.
"Apparently not."
Fluke sighed.
"It's already spreading."
"How far?"
"Internal groups first. Then someone posted it publicly."
Ling's expression hardened.
"Who?"
"We're trying to find out."
"Take it down."
"We've requested removal from the original account."
"Requested?"
"It's already been reposted."
Ling closed her eyes briefly.
Of course it had.
"How many?"
"Several thousand."
Ling stared at the photograph.
Several thousand people now believed something that wasn't true.
That shouldn't have bothered her.
It did.
"Is Orm aware?"
Fluke laughed softly.
"She's probably having a breakdown."
Ling couldn't help smiling.
"She is."
Fluke paused.
"You sound amused."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Ling looked away.
"Send me everything."
"Already done."
"And Fluke?"
"Yes?"
"Don't contact Orm."
"Why?"
"I'll handle it."
There was a pause.
"Are you sure?"
Ling looked down at the photograph again.
Orm was looking directly at her.
Not the camera.
Her.
There was something about that expression that Ling couldn't stop noticing.
"Yes."
She ended the call.
For several seconds, she remained completely still.
Then she picked up her phone and opened Orm's contact.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
She could call.
She could explain.
She could tell Orm that it was nothing.
She could tell her not to worry.
Instead, Ling stared at the photograph one more time before locking her phone.
Not yet.
She didn't know why.
She simply wasn't ready.
?
Monday arrived far too quickly.
Orm spent the entire weekend avoiding social media, although avoiding it proved nearly impossible because every time she opened her phone there was another message, another tag, or another person asking the same question.
Are you and Ling together?
Eventually, she stopped answering.
By Monday morning, she had convinced herself that the rumors would have died down.
They hadn't.
The moment she stepped into Veyra's lobby, she knew it.
There were whispers first, followed by smiles that disappeared whenever she looked directly at the people making them.
Someone near the reception desk actually nudged their coworker and whispered something behind a hand, while another person smiled at Orm with such obvious amusement that she immediately wished she had stayed home.
Bow, walking beside her, noticed the looks too.
"Oh."
Orm sighed.
"Don't."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You don't have to."
They stepped into the elevator.
Two employees were already inside.
Both looked at Orm.
One smiled.
"Congratulations."
Orm closed her eyes.
"Thank you."
Bow turned toward her.
"You didn't have to say thank you."
"I panicked."
The elevator doors opened before Bow could respond.
They stepped out and walked toward the creative department.
Orm had almost convinced herself that she could survive the morning when she saw Ling standing at the end of the corridor.
Their eyes met.
The noise around them seemed to fade.
Orm stopped.
Ling stopped.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Ling walked toward her.
The whispers around them became quieter.
Ling stopped in front of Orm.
"Good morning."
Orm swallowed.
"Good morning."
Ling glanced briefly at the people watching them before returning her attention to Orm.
"Did you sleep?"
Orm blinked.
"Not really."
"Neither did I."
Orm looked at her.
"About the photograph?"
Ling nodded.
"Yes."
Orm lowered her voice.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
"But—"
"It wasn't your fault."
Orm stared at her.
Ling's expression softened.
"Are you okay?"
Orm nodded.
"Yes."
"Good."
Ling looked at her for another moment before quietly adding, "We should talk."
Orm's heart began beating faster.
"About what?"
Ling's eyes flickered toward the people watching them.
"The photograph."
Orm nodded.
"Right."
Ling stepped aside.
"After lunch."
"Okay."
Ling walked away.
Orm watched her go.
Bow appeared beside her a moment later.
"Well."
Orm sighed.
"What?"
Bow smiled.
"That could have gone worse."
Orm looked down the corridor where Ling had disappeared.
"Somehow, I don't think it's over."
Bow followed her gaze.
"No."
She smiled faintly.
"I don't think it is."
Orm didn't answer.
Because despite everything, the rumors, the photograph, the embarrassment, the hundreds of messages she had received, and the uncomfortable certainty that her life at Veyra had just become much more complicated. There was one thing she couldn't stop thinking about.
The photograph.
Not the comments.
Not the rumors.
Not what everyone else thought.
Just the photograph itself.
The way Ling had caught her.
The way Ling had looked at her.
And the fact that, for one brief moment, neither of them had seemed particularly eager to move away.
Orm looked toward Ling's office, then quickly looked away.
Whatever happened next, she knew one thing.
Monday was going to be a very long day.