On the second day in Daniel's "care," he woke me: "Eat breakfast first, then go back to sleep."
I mumbled assent and opened my eyes to his face looming above me again.
Breakfast was already set out; different dishes from yesterday, but still the foods I loved.

He lifted a bowl as if to feed me again. Daniel looked like he hadn't slept well — dark circles under his eyes, a fragile look, and his thoughts seemed somewhere else.
I called his name a few times before he noticed.
It made me worry that he hadn't just slept poorly — he might not have slept at all.
I felt guilty and decided to tell him about my missing phone. Daniel listened with some interest.
"You're not lying?" he asked. I clung to a sliver of hope.
"Really, Mr. Vale — you can check my phone records to see who I like."

He nodded and took my phone from me. Since it had no network connection, he let me look through it.
I was disappointed: my chat with Maya had been cleaned up a few days earlier, and there was no trace of Daniel.
Apart from my favorite singer, the other guy I'd mentioned was a new intern people called "Caleb."
The chat was full of silly praise: "Caleb's so hot,"

"So cute,"
"He carried me through that game," and so on.
Daniel and I both paused on one line: "Ahhh, it'd be nice to stay with him."
The room went quiet. I didn't dare look at Daniel for fear he'd throw the phone and say, "I trusted you once and you lost so badly." Thankfully, he didn't.
But his voice was strangely flat.
"Now I know who you like."
No emotion — just the hollow calm of someone resigned.
If I had seen my boss praise someone else on his phone I might have renounced love too.
I was terrified we'd missed our chance.
"Mr. Vale, listen — Caleb and I only play games together. He's a chill teammate who can carry a match; it's not what you think!" I tried to explain.
Daniel said, "Call him Caleb, call me your boss."
"Yes, he's very… your ideal type. Younger, sunny, good at talking and games."
He sounded bitter.
That phrase felt oddly familiar, and a flash of memory struck me.
I had indeed described my "type" in the break room a couple of weeks ago — I hadn't dared say I liked Daniel, and instead mentioned the kind of guy I'd liked in college.
A week later an intern appeared with similar traits, and people teased me.
But Daniel hadn't been there that day — so how did he know?
"Who told you?" I blurted. Daniel glanced at me. "Other people."
So the secret had leaked. Hearing that, I felt sick — I'd somehow lost Daniel's trust.
He took the phone away. My face must have fallen; I didn't know how to prove my love.
"What else do you want to say?" Daniel asked.
"I… want a glass of water." I was parched after talking so much.
He hesitated, then poured one and handed it to me. I drank it all and handed it back.
Daniel seemed distracted and didn't hold the glass tightly; it slipped and shattered on the floor.
He snapped back to attention immediately. "Don't move."
I reflexively bent to pick up the pieces, but he swept them away and left the room.
I reached for his sleeve and found only air.
I pulled at the chain in frustration — no luck.
It wasn't a cheap novelty cuff I'd seen online. I switched on the projector and resolved to watch romantic films to study the situation, only to find three in a row starring the kind of younger, doting boy types that made me feel cross.