The Woman Inside by E. G. Scott

Author:E. G. Scott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-01-21T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

I WAKE, feeling like my head is full of seawater and sand. I kept falling asleep during the movie from the pills. I overdid it, and I can’t slip up like this again. I was so amped up from his phone blowing up with texts, I crushed a hydrocodone into powder and snorted it while Paul paid the delivery guy. I can’t remember what the movie was, just that it was a really old one that he remembered watching with his dad when he was alive. He is clearly thinking about his parents lately.

“You really must be feeling sick, honey. You can barely keep your eyes open and you’re all clammy. You barely ate,” he’d whispered to me as he carried me to bed. My arms were around his neck. His lifting and cradling me almost made me forget everything. Now awake, I remember immediately and feel sick. But I have important things to accomplish.

Duff and Paul are snoring beside me. I’ve already kicked off the sheets and blankets because of the collective human and canine body heat, so I’m able to roll out of bed without disrupting the tide of sheets and pillows too much. I move across the carpet soundlessly and slide his phone from his bedside into my hand. In the living room I lean against the mantel, the lone lion bookend cold against my shoulder. I put my own phone on the mantel and dig into his first.

I’m a little surprised and relieved that he hasn’t changed his password. He must be confident of my ignorance. I look at his most recent text and it is indeed from Wes, but it is from this morning. I quickly scroll through all of his texts, unsure of what I’ll be able to access retroactively once the app is in place. I’ll be able to read his texts, emails, location, and search history from the safety of my own phone for just two hundred dollars a month. Nothing current stands out as suspicious and I have a momentary pang of doubt. Maybe I’m letting my imagination get the best of me. But the empty bank account and Paul’s increasing laundry list of lies have piled up too much to ignore his secret-keeping.

I enter “MindsEye” into the app store and it comes up immediately. I download and activate it with the log-in I created earlier. The eye icon appears on his main screen. I quickly go into the settings and click on “Hide Icon.” When I get back to his home screen the eye has disappeared.

I spook at the sight of my uplit face in the mirror. The screen in my hand is casting a severely ghostly pallor. I wait as my phone leeches all the secrets from his. This is no longer accidental and out of my control.

The eye icon on my phone shows a check mark, and barely a breath after, the phones vibrate in unison. I go directly into Paul’s text messages to suss out

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