Hacker • English Version

Chapter 5

Yoko's POV

Faye Malisorn has made herself comfortable in my apartment. When I borrowed a laptop to check my home security system, I didn't expect to see her pacing around in a fancy grey suit. She looked more like a CEO than someone breaking in.

Honestly, I thought she might destroy my stuff—especially the computers.

I thought she would leave the mess behind to warn me not to get involved in her business again.

But instead, after spending the night on my couch, she's in my kitchen digging through the cupboards. I don't have sound, but from how she's moving and mumbling, I think she's cursing me.

It's true—my kitchen is sad. I only have a saucepan, a wooden spoon, a few bowls and forks. That's it. I always eat noodles in the same bowl.

"Is she still there?"

Marissa's voice breaks the silence. She puts a cup of peppermint tea by my elbow and sits beside me at the kitchen table. She sips her drink, frowning at Faye on the screen.

I shrug, my neck stiff from sleeping on her couch. Faye's place is smaller than mine, with strange-shaped rooms and sunlight pouring through the windows. She has a balcony that looks over the Arts District.

It's a nice apartment. I'm lucky to be here, even without any plants.

Watching Faye search through my kitchen makes me feel weirdly nostalgic. I glance at Marissa and realize how much she and Faye look alike—dark hair, tan skin. I always thought Marissa was beautiful. Now I get why men open up to her so easily.

If Faye smiled at me, I'd probably tell her all my passwords. If she flirted? Forget it. I'd melt on the spot.

"What is she looking for?" Marissa tilts her head.

I suddenly want to cover her eyes. Faye has taken off her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. Her slacks fit her perfectly, and I don't want Marissa—or anyone else—seeing that.

"Kitchen stuff, probably," I say, sipping my tea to calm myself. "But I don't have any."

Marissa laughs and nudges me.
"I could teach you how to cook, Yoko."

"I know." The internet could too, or food packages. But I'm just not interested—unless it's Faye cooking. She could tie her shoes and I'd be hypnotized, just watching her hands and the way her shoulders move.

Now she's checking out my tiny wardrobe, hands on her hips.

I bite my lip and pull out a burner phone from my pocket. It's a new one, in case she traced the last. The number on my hand nearly washed off in the shower, so I used a permanent marker this morning.

I called her. She answers after one ring, still looking through my closet.

"Faye?"

"Yes." Her shoulders drop a little. "Hi. There are Pop Tarts on the second shelf if you're hungry."

Faye turns around and looks directly into the camera.

Plants always attract attention. They make people ignore the tiny black lenses hidden between the leaves.

"You're watching me again, Yoko." Her voice is rough, but not angry. She sounds... pleased. "Invading my privacy."

"You're in my apartment. I'm not even hacking, just logged into my own system."

"Did you watch me all night?" she asks, rubbing her jaw.

"Not all night," I lied.

Faye raises an eyebrow. Behind her, the kitchen is a mess of clean dishes, tangled plants, and golden sunlight.

"You ate my popcorn. And you read my book."

She finds the camera between two spider plants and suddenly smiles. That smile makes my whole body tingle.

"Oh God," Marissa mutters. I forgot she was here. I quickly turn the laptop screen away from her. She snorts and walks off.

I know I'm being possessive.

But I don't want my friend drooling over Faye. She's mine.

"Is someone else there?" Faye frowns.

"It's just Marissa. She left the room."

Faye says nothing. I miss that smile already. I could stay on the line forever, but I know she won't. I need to make this call useful.

"Did you talk to your cousin?"

Faye grunts and keeps searching the shelf.

"Yes. Now he's very interested in where I am."

I bet. He must feel like time's running out.

"Don't tell him your location."

"Worried about your plants?" she asks lightly. She finds the Pop Tarts, takes a chocolate one, and drops it in the toaster.

"No. I'm worried about you. That's why I warned you the first time. Even though I knew it would ruin my life."

She stays quiet. The toaster hums with heat.

Then finally, "I'm not easy to kill."

"I'm serious."

If I were more normal, maybe I'd go home and we'd eat Pop Tarts together.

But Faye isn't just a guest—she's a mobster. She said she'd kill me. Even if she changed her mind, it doesn't mean she wants to have breakfast with me.

Why am I pretending?

"Yoko?" Her voice softens. She sounds concerned. "Are you still there?"

The Pop Tart jiggles in the toaster. I grip the phone tightly.

"Your breakfast is ready."

"This doesn't count as food."

"Have a nice day, Faye. Don't meet your cousin."

"Wait, Yoko—"

I hang up, breathing fast. On the screen, Faye stares at her phone, jaw tight. For a moment, I think she might throw it against the wall.

But she doesn't. She rolls her neck, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Then she grabs a plate, takes the Pop Tart, and walks away.

So calm. So in control.

I could follow her. Watch her in the other rooms too. But I don't.

I shut the laptop, feeling dizzy with emotions I don't know how to name.