Ilya watches as, with shaking fingers, Shane presses something on his phone and turns it to him.

There is an article open. Ilya sees… a photo of him at Shane’s house in Montreal. A side by side comparison of them, wearing—sharing—the same shirts, and hoodies. Shane’s car driving through the gates at Ilya’s new house.

Shane hiccups, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“They figured us out.”

A year in the life of Shane and Ilya, if they had been outed earlier.