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Anna loved to watch Isabel at work. There were the rituals when Isabel first sat down; that long, frizzy hair pulled back into a messy bun, the cup of tea set down by the keyboard, the slight frown as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the screen. Then there were the tics when she worked. Isabel usually needed two tries to hit the ‘enter’ key, always used ‘Caps Lock’ instead of ‘Shift,’ and was much calmer working with words than numbers. Finally, there were the signs that Isabel was slowing down for the night. She would begin to yawn, and her eyes would drift more and more frequently to her phone, until finally, at ten o’clock or so, she would mutter something under her breath, undo her hair, push the chair back, and head for bed. Anna thought that she was most beautiful then.

Anna had spent so much time watching Isabel that she often forgot to pay attention to what Isabel was typing, even though that was the reason she was there in the first place. It was so easy to get lost in the rhythmic tapping on the keyboard, and the delicate signs that slipped out Isabel’s mouth when she was frustrated. In the first weeks after she had set up the cameras, Anna had all but forgotten the reason that she had put them there in the first place. She was content to simply watch. But after a while, she found herself awake and agitated in the small hours of the morning, long after Isabel had gone to sleep. It was then she knew that she could not just watch any longer. Even her newfound resolve, however, did not stop her from getting distracted the moment Isabel appeared back on the screen.

She had considered setting the cameras to record, but she knew that function switched on the red light just above the lens, and she couldn’t risk Isabel noticing the glow and realizing that she was there. So instead, every night at seven o’clock, Anna opened up her laptop and sat in the middle of her mattress, waiting for Isabel to walk into the corner of her studio apartment that she used as an office. She sat, knees pulled up towards her chest, digging her fingers into palm whenever she felt that dreamy, distracted haze creeping into the corners of her vision.

It took a month for Anna to learn the first password. She had been staring at the curls on the nape of Isabel’s neck, when a flash of red caught her eye. Isabel was logging onto her bank page. Anna’s breath caught in her throat. She pushed her face closer to the screen, watching as Isabel typed in her e-mail, then her password. I-S-A-B-E-L-1. Her little finger flicked twice to hit ‘enter.’ The screen went black, then lit up in a sea of numbers.

Anna shrunk the camera window down into the corner of her screen, until Isabel was just a flicker. She pulled up the bank page, entered Isabel’s e-mail, then typed in the password. Her computer flickered, and for an instant Anna worried that she was wrong. Then the log-in page disappeared, and a welcome screen flashed up. Hardly daring to breath, she pulled up Facebook, then Instagram, then Gmail. Each time, she entered the same e-mail, then the same password. Each time, her computer paused, as if digesting the information, before flicking onto a welcome page. Anna stared blankly ahead of her. For the first time since she had known Isabel, she felt disappointed in her. She had thought Isabel would be smarter than that.

Anna dug her fingers into the palm of her hand, then turned her attention back to Isabel. She pulled the camera window open again, expanding it wider and wider until Isabel’s face took up her whole screen. She allowed herself to trail a finger over Isabel’s cheek and felt her disappointment fade. It was only natural that Isabel would make mistakes, some of the time. It was one of the reasons that Anna’s plan was so good. She would be better at being Isabel than Isabel was. And Isabel deserved only the best.

Anna let herself remain as she was, zoomed in on Isabel’s face, until the end of the evening. She stared intently at the purse in Isabel’s lips as she began to yawn, and the furrow in her brown as she frowned at the screen. She tried to memorize the sweep of her hair as it uncoiled from her bun and tumbled down her back. As Isabel pushed the chair back and stood up, Anna felt tears welling in her eyes. She would miss these evenings.

It took longer than usual for Isabel to fall asleep that evening. Every time she stirred in bed, Anna started, afraid that she had finally seen the reflection of a lens or heard the quiet whir of the camera as it moved. But each time, Isabel rolled over and stilled. When Anna was satisfied Isabel was truly asleep, she opened her web browser back up. She opened each of Isabel’s pages in turn: her bank account, her e-mails, her social media pages. On every site, she scrolled through the settings until she found the button –‘reset your password.’ She smiled as she entered the random combinations of letters and numbers, each different and impossible to guess. By the time Isabel woke up in the morning, she would be locked out of everything that she used online. Anna would already be living her digital life. Then, it would be time for the next phase of the plan.