July 14th, 2020, on the lower east side of Manhattan a young woman walks down the

sidewalk towards her cousin Fahim's place.

Fahim lives in a luxury apartment on Houston Street.

It's the kind of place where the elevator opens right into the living room

and through wall-to-wall windows a sprawling New York City, glimmers.

The young woman called A and her family haven't heard from Fahim in a few days, so they've asked

her to go drop by.

But he is an extremely successful tech entrepreneur.

He's only 33 years old, but he's worth about $150 million. His phone is always glued to his hand. His business is his entire life.

I know how he feels.

Pahim's family knows that I know how he feels.

Pahim's family knows that he's received their texts.

He must have heard their miss calls.

A is worried just like the rest of the family so she finds herself in the muggy summer heat

trudging towards Fiam's building as sweat pools around her neck and forehead.

A fishes around in her purse for the key.

And when she finds it, she swings open the glass doors

to Fiam's building.

Using the virtual doorman, amazing how you can replace minimum wage nowadays, she steps into the elevator and heads to the seventh floor.

A scrolls her phone as the elevator humms.

She's hovering her fingers over the last exchange she had with Fauheim.

Where is he?

...