It was a nonsense phrase; utterly meaningless. Yet everyone who tweeted it out or posted it to Facebook or anything like disappeared . . . if they didn’t apologize.

Carter Flannigan hadn’t apologized for posting it. And Jazmine Hernandez hadn’t heard from him in two days.

She tried texting him again: “Carter, it’s Jazz. Really worried about you.” This time she didn’t call him “hon” or punctuate her message with a little heart. He’d have to know that meant she was super concerned . . . wouldn’t he?

Jazmine set her smartphone on her desk next to her keyboard, her computer humming quiet and low. The machine was a beast, powered by a water-cooled multi-threaded processor with dual GPUs and enough RAM to open thirty browser tabs without crashing. Three quad k zero bezel monitors, side-by-side, enveloped her like she was Batman. Batgirl, more like. Batman had been her favorite…