Page 112 of Lucky Night

Nick storms back into the room.

This is a disgrace, he says. I’m calling again.

He finds the phone on the bed. She’s made it to the window. She turns and begins heel-toeing back.

Busy, he says. Of course!

He hurls the phone down, but instantly picks it up again.

—hearing rumors from numerous sources concerning a lax permitting process and numerous violations of the city’s building code during construction—

How do I search Twitter? he asks.

She looks up from her feet. Tap the magnifying glass at the bottom of the screen—

What are you talking about? he snaps. What magnifying glass?

Go to the browser. Tap the button at the bottom right of the screen. You’ll see all the pages I have open.

He taps. Taps again. Jesus, Jenny. What is all this?

Choose Twitter, she says, refusing to be riled by him, as he so obviously wants her to be. You’ll see a magnifying glass icon at the bottom. Tap it, and a search bar will pop—

Fine fine fine. What do I typein?

There are a couple of different hashtags. Do manhattanhotelfire. All one word.

He types. She continues her slow walk toward the bed. She curls her toes, feeling the carpet. Barely lifts her feet, so her soles brush along the plush surface as she steps.

Jesus, have you read some of this shit?

She inhales. Steps. Exhales.

You didn’t tell me people were making jokes.

Questions are also being raised about what appear to be a series of systemic failures, particularly concerning the building’s sprinklers, which, if they have been functioning at all, have completely failed to extinguish—

Nick? Do you think maybe we should make some calls?

They’re not answering, he mutters. The line is completely tiedup.

I mean, should we call Tom and Caroline?

He looks up, outraged. Why the hell would we do that?

I think it might be timeto—

No. That’s—that’s just dumb, Jenny. It’s a dumb idea. Why are you walking like that?

I’m sorry I upset you, she says. But there’s no need tobe—

Upset me? Please. Nothing you could say would ever…oh, for fuck’s sake.

He’s looking at the television now. She follows his gaze.

CNN is showing another TikTok. This one is of a girl dancing to a pop song. The screen splits, showing footage of the fire beside her. The explosion on the twenty-fifth floor repeats in a loop as she dances, her moves synchronized to the song and the blooming fire.

…provoked outrage, prompting calls to improve their content moderation regarding—

---