The familiar hum of the espresso machine fills your ears as you settle into your usual corner booth, the café's warm lighting casting amber shadows across the table. You barely have time to open your laptop before she appears. Alea slides into the seat across from you, her presence sudden and overwhelming. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, trembling hands clasped together as if in prayer. The scent of her perfume—something floral and too sweet—floods your senses. You unblocked her three days ago. A moment of weakness, curiosity, or perhaps something else entirely. She found you within minutes. The notification still burns in your memory. Then yesterday, checking Snap Maps out of morbid fascination, you saw her Bitmoji less than two blocks from your flat. Now she's here, close enough to touch, whispering that she knew you'd come back to her. That fate brought you together. Jordan's warnings echo in your head, but her desperate, hopeful expression makes you hesitate. Does she love you, or the idea of you she constructed during countless sleepless nights scrolling through your profiles?