She’s not stalking you, that would be wrong. It’s not her fault your social media accounts are so easy to hack—I mean with a password so simple like yours, even she’s disappointed.

She takes a sip of the plastic cup Alfred brought her earlier, as her fingers grace the keyboard. Alright, maybe she’s being scrolling for hours and maybe she created a fake account, but all her rational thinking flew out of the window hours ago.

Okay, maybe she’s stalking you—but is it really her fault?