She shook her head violently and drew her arms more tightly across her chest, as though she had to physically hold herself together. I hurried her into the apartment and poured her a glass of water, which she ignored.

“What’s going on?”

She swallowed hard and turned frightened, wet eyes to me. “Max has photos of me.”

I sipped my own water, waiting for more. Audrey papered the internet with images of herself; of course her boyfriend had some.

“Photos of me,” she repeated significantly, as if that might help me understand. “On his computer.”

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“No, Cat. Not okay. He has photos he shouldn’t have.”

“Oh!” I said, my cheeks burning as I suddenly caught what she was saying. “You mean he has intimate photos.”

“No, not nudes. Photos of me just … doing stuff. Drinking coffee, walking, coming home from exercising.” She drew a ragged breath and when she spoke her voice was a squeak. “I think … I think Max has been watching me.”

“Audrey, everyone has been watching you,” I said. “You post photos of yourself online all day long. So Max saved some of them to his computer. I don’t understand what’s so upsetting about that.”

Her eyes widened, their blue-green color brilliant underneath the sheen of tears. “Are you even listening to me? These aren’t photos I’ve posted. These are photos I’ve never seen of myself, photos that are like … I don’t know, like paparazzi shots or something.”

I felt a bubble of inappropriate laughter rise in my throat. Of course Audrey assumed she had paparazzi, like she was some sort of celebrity. I could see she was distressed, but phrases like that made it so hard for me to take her seriously.

“Breathe,” I instructed, taking her hands. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. What did Max say?”

“He doesn’t know I saw them. He went out to pick up lunch and left music running on his computer. I went to change the album and … I saw them. Just sitting there on his desktop in a folder labeled ‘Audrey.’ I mean, what the hell, Cat, it’s almost like he wanted me to see them.” She paused and pressed a hand against her mouth. “I freaked out. I mean, wouldn’t you? I picked up and left, and I haven’t answered any of his calls or texts. I can’t. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what any of this means, other than that he’s the one who’s been stalking me.”

“Audrey, no,” I told her gently. “You know that’s not true. This is Max. Come on, you just have to talk to him. I know you said you’ve never seen them, but you post so many photos, how could you ever keep track?”

“I didn’t post these pictures,” Audrey said stubbornly.

I doubted she could be so certain, but saw no point in continuing to argue with her.

“Okay,” I said placatingly. “You didn’t post them. You still have to talk to him. This is your boyfriend, Audrey. Do you really believe he’s the one who’s been stalking you?”