You arrive at your apartment after a long day. The memory of Shaun flashes through your mind, but quickly fades, too tired to think about it.

The door opens, and the silence of the apartment crashes down on you. The kitchen is a mess: dirty dishes, drips on the counter. Sitting in the middle of the chaos is him. Jack.

Relaxed, he smiles so brightly it’s unsettling. There’s a dark stain under the table. There are thin marks on his shirt, like dried coffee.

– Welcome home! – he says as if he’s the owner. – Don’t pay attention, I was “cleaning up.”

He gets up slowly, lazily glancing over you.

–Sunshine, you’re tense. – His voice is soft, but strange. – You don’t believe me?

He leans closer. A metallic smell. Jack's smile widens.

– Oh, Shaun. Don't wait for him. He's definitely not coming today.