he learned to anticipate the weight of his hand on her shoulder, the exact frequency of the security drones that patroll

Bradford Estate. Tuesdays

ed. She drove up. She entered the foyer. She l

. Sometimes a thousand. It was piling up under the loose f

ld's toy. It took her three nights of painstaking work with a soldering iron she'd stolen from Wong's toolbox to assemble a micro-camera, smaller than a pinhead. It was a long s

delivery, som

jacket. The air was different. The sterile, antisepti

li

s sat on the black table, exa

lies were for funerals. They were the flowe

food down, lingering for three extra seconds. She turned her chest toward

eme

ine this t

flash of a bare foot retreating into the darkn

ked out, forcing h

of damp drywall-she hooked the camera up to her lap

Corru

s nothing but

k. Signal jammers. The house was a black

tel. She needed to

e atmosphere was tense. Uncle Wong w

runted, eyeing her. "Maybe I pay

teeth. "Whatever

this job. It was h

her pocket. She pulled it

the delivery app. A special

inside.

ring at the words, a cold dread settled in her stomach. It felt

she zipped up the thermal

d using Maya's real name before correcting hersel

hand. Penny's fingers were

ollars, Penny," sh

r. The engine noise was fami

he fog was thicker, swirling aro

. They opened. She drove

gaped like a mouth in the concrete face o