e

to tackle the study. Dust had settled on the bookshelves, and papers were scattered across the desk. Harryson had

ng faintly metallic. I opened the window, letting in a breeze th

ed to the desk, stacking papers into neat piles, throwing out scribbled notes and bent paperclips. There were receipts from

and a few broken staples. Nothing unusual. Just clutter. But in the back o

nail. It had no markings, no labels, nothing to in

some kind of electronic component, maybe a memory chip or part of a cir

d, as if the chip had drained the warmth from them. I q

-

e a stone in my shoe-small but impossible to ignore. Harryson was unusually quiet, pushing his foo

What is this?" But something held me back. Maybe it was fear

" I asked, trying

ed. "Yeah, just tire

ing a smile. "

g in my mind. Why was he acting so distant? What was he hiding?

mumbled something about needing to check emails and went back t

shes, and wiped down the counters in slow, careful circles. My thoughts kept returning t

-

ng room, the chip in my hand. I turned it over and over, hoping it

reak of the floorboards. The soft hum of the re

ut I hesitated. What if it was something dangerous? Wha

or made me cautious. Like I was dealing with a version of him I didn't recognize. Not the Harryson

distant. Sharper. Like he was

rn in years. I decided to keep it hidden, at least for now. I would wait, watch, and try to understand wha

-

nothing had changed. But I kept catching myself watching Harryson out of the corner of my

distracted. Like his mind

ht. Other times he'd be on his phone, speaking softly in a voice I could barely h

felt ridiculous-paranoid even-but I couldn't ignore the growing feeling

a walk to clear his head. I waited a few minutes, th

ght flickered and the trees swayed like shadows. He stood there for a long

treet. I couldn't hear what he said, but I saw his f

d around again. Then

the couch. He gave me a quick nod, said, "Didn't reali

t was p

-

ntouched. I picked it up again, just to feel it, to remind myself it was

I'd try searching online. But not from our home networ

rawers, the books, even behind the framed photos. I didn't know what I was h

found a s

oks. This one was slightly different-same size, but with

started

on was hiding these things for a reason. An

box, next to the first. Then I closed it

d time

-

r dinner. He texted saying something cam

ing at two plates and wonderin

very room. And between that silence were questi

nd I was starting to believe that I di

anym