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She unlocks it, taps through her messages, then holds the screen out to me.

The first thread is from the wedding dress fitting.

Eilish: I’m at the dress appointment. They’re all horrible. Can you help?

Fionn: I’m about to head up a meeting. Send me the owner’s number. I’ll call her later.

Eilish: Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.

Fionn: Okay.

I look up. “Charming.”

“Keep reading,” Eilish says.

My eyes drop back to the screen, to the next text message sent 30 seconds later.

Fionn: Is Sera there?

My stomach drops.

Eilish: Yes.

Fionn: I’ll be there in ten.

I stare at the message, and I am back in the dress shop with my heart racing because he walked in.

Eilish takes the phone back and swipes to another part of the thread.

“And last night,” she says. “Before we met him in the bar.”

She passes it to me again.

Eilish: Are you free tonight? Come for a drink?

Fionn: Training.

Eilish: I need your help with something.

Fionn: We’ll talk tomorrow.

Eilish: Sera’s trying to walk away from being my bridesmaid.

Eilish: I don’t want to lose my best friend because she hates you.

Fionn: Will she be there too?

My fingers tighten around the phone.

Eilish: I’m meeting her at the bar in Black Heath in half an hour.

Fionn: I’ll be there.

I stare at the words until they stop looking like words.

Eilish gives me a broken little smile.

“He came for you, Sera.”