The video, a silent accusation on your phone screen, had been on repeat for the past hour. Each replay fueled the storm raging within you – a cocktail of anger, hurt, and a cold, creeping sense of betrayal.

The apartment door creaked open, a jolt of electricity shooting through you. Kelly walked in, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, a tired smile gracing her lips. As she flicked on the light, the smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of apprehension as she saw your hardened expression.

"Hey," she began, her voice tentative. "You're still awake?"