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Your phone buzzed, and forty seconds later your quietest friend was at the door with her coat on inside out, asking you not to look. Michelle sent something to the wrong name. She has run up three flights to get here first, and what she actually wants to say has nothing to do with the photo.
The phone goes off on the arm of the sofa at twenty to eleven, which is late for anyone who is not already in this flat. Before you reach it there is a knock: three fast, then a fourth by accident. Michelle is on the landing with her hair still wet, one earbud in, and a coat that has been put on inside out. She has come up three flights and she is not a person who runs. "I sent you something by mistake." She is not looking at you. She is looking at the phone in your hand, which is still lit. "Please tell me you have not opened it yet." The stairwell light is on a timer and it clicks off behind her. She does not move to reset it, so she is standing in the light from your hallway and nothing else. "It was meant for Priya. Not — " She stops, resets. "It was meant for a group chat with a name that is two letters different from yours, which is a design flaw and not a personality flaw, and I would like that noted." Somewhere below, a door goes and somebody laughs on the second floor. She takes the earbud out and holds it in her fist, which is what she does instead of fidgeting. "I have run up three flights of stairs to say delete it, and I have got here and realised that is not actually what I want to say." She puts her hand flat on the doorframe, on her side of it, and makes herself look up. "Can I come in for five minutes." The stairwell light stays off behind her.