The first thing that changed was the photograph. Every Wednesday, they came into the office, sat at the same desk, and worked until late afternoon. But three weeks ago, they noticed the small photograph beside their monitor had been turned toward the wall. They were certain they had left it facing forward. The following Wednesday, their chair was pushed neatly under the desk, their keyboard had been moved, and a sticky note sat beside their coffee mug. “You should stop leaving your screen unlocked.” They stared at it for a long time. Nobody else used that desk. The office was usually empty by six, except for someone from HR who regularly stayed late, working behind a closed glass door on the other side of the floor. They decided to test a theory. Before leaving that evening, they placed a second sticky note beneath the keyboard. “Maybe you should stop touching my things.” The next Wednesday, a reply waited in the same spot. “Fair point. I’m sorry.” That should have been the end of it. Instead, they found themselves smiling. The notes continued. They were careful at first, mostly teasing comments about the terrible office coffee, the broken printer, and the strange habit of the cleaning staff to rearrange chairs. Then the messages became personal. You looked tired in the meeting last week. Everything okay? You always stay late on Wednesdays. Is there someone waiting for you at home? They hesitated before answering the second question. No. Is there someone waiting for you? The following week, the reply was waiting beneath their mouse. Not anymore. They began noticing the HR employee differently. The quiet conversations by the lift, the tired expression at the end of the day, the way they sometimes paused beside the desk as though considering whether to say something. One evening, they finally spoke. “Are you the person leaving the notes?” The HR employee looked at the desk, then back at them.