You push through the fatigue, your eyes burning from the harsh blue light of the monitor. You scroll deep into Sophie's timeline, hunting for any mention of Isabella's routines or Blackridge's internal culture. Your fingers are heavy. Your brain feels like it's packed with cotton. You move your mouse to click on the comments of a post from three years ago. Your finger twitches on the trackpad. The screen flashes a tiny blue thumbs-up. You just liked a three-year-old vacation photo of a Blackridge employee at 3:14 AM. Your stomach drops into a freefall. You immediately frantically click to "unlike" it, but you know exactly how push notifications work. The alert has already been sent to her phone. You were so desperate to remain invisible that you just tripped over the furniture. You haven't blown the operation entirely, but the element of total surprise is fractured. If Sophie is paranoid, she might lock down her account tomorrow or mention it to her old coworkers. You slam the laptop shut. You have to sleep before you do any more damage. --- [[Cybercrime/The_Phisherman/The Next Day|Go to sleep and pray she doesn't check her notifications]]