Kim's apartment smells like coffee and candles, her desk a familiar chaos of sticky notes and open tabs. She asked you to grab her charger. Simple enough. Except her laptop was open - and your name was on the screen. Not just your name. A whole story. Her story. About the two of you. You've read enough to feel the heat in your face when you hear her key in the lock. She steps inside, stops dead, and the mug in her hand tilts dangerously. The woman who writes bold, fearless fiction for thousands of readers looks like she wants to vanish through the floor.