Vass Signed His Name

The post has Vass's real name under it. That's the part I keep coming back to. Anyone can hide behind a handle. He typed his actual name and pressed send, and the caption beneath the photo called me a project, then a tape study. Project first. Tape study second. The order matters. The order says where I started and where I am now, and he signed his name to say he agreed with both.

Vass was in my kitchen when I made Jules's first corner rotation sheet. He drank the coffee I poured him. He knew about Weldon before most people did because I let him. And now Brayden Cotton's ute has been parked across Apex for two nights running and Jules logged the plates. I read that sentence to myself and felt nothing useful. Just a clean click, like a pad landing clean on a glove.

I told the room "we bait harder" and meant it. That's the only honest thing I said all day. Danny nodded like he'd been waiting. Maybe he had. Maybe he watched Vass go quiet for weeks and only told me when the thread went live. I'll ask him tomorrow. Or I won't. It might be better not knowing what he knew and when.

The envelope is still sealed. I cooked chicken and rice and ate it standing up with the envelope three feet away on the counter. I did that on purpose. I don't know what I was proving.

Three drafts to Jules tonight, deleted. The things I wanted to say kept sounding like I was asking for something. I wasn't. I don't know what I was. I just wanted someone to know the cut was closer than I told Zoe.