The positive feedback felt like a shield.

If I was online, if I was visible, Julian couldn’t make me disappear.

Then, a third notification popped up at the bottom of the screen.

The username was a string of random numbers.

I clicked to expand the text, my hand freezing on the trackpad.

The comment read: “That Tuscan oil with the red wax seal really brings out the spinach.”

My breath caught in my throat.

I stared at the words on the glowing screen, my heart hammering.

I slowly looked over my shoulder at the pantry door.

The door was slightly ajar, showing just a sliver of the dark wood shelving inside.

The bottle of olive oil sat deep on the second shelf, hidden from any normal angle in the room.

My hands began to shake against the edge of the quartz island.

I closed the laptop screen halfway, as if that could block the gaze of whoever wrote it.

How could anyone know about the bottle?

I had not featured it in any of the blog photos.