Message Sent

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The bathroom door clattered as the slight breeze from the open window caught it. The muted television was on a gaudy music programme of some sort, it switched rapidly from one advert to the next. Everything was in disarray. The notes were piled high on the table next to a half-empty coffee cup, it was making ring stains on the marble worktop. Clothes were strewn across the floor and thrown carelessly over the backs of chairs. Some even trailed out of the open front door of the apartment, as if a fashionable - questionably fashionable - Hansel or Gretel had scarpered. Everything was silent bar the bathroom door and the beep of the pc.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

...

It shut down with a pitiful whine. But not before flashing up one single message: Read This! There was a link that had obviously been clicked.

And Cynthia was nowhere to be seen.

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