The woman’s face fills the screen. She’s not in the mall. She’s standing in a room he’s never seen before—white walls, no windows, a single chair. She’s holding the phone at arm’s length, her expression not angry or sad, but patient. Like a nurse about to deliver bad news.
A woman stood directly under the fluorescents by the old food court. She wasn't shoplifting. She wasn't waiting. She was just… there. And in her hand, she held an iPhone. Not up to her ear, not texting. She held it like a badge, screen facing out. Then she tapped it. iphone flasher
Leo opens his mouth to speak, but the words die. Because behind her, reflected in a dark mirror on the wall, he sees himself. Sitting in that chair. Wearing a hospital gown. Tubes in his arms. Eyes closed. The woman’s face fills the screen