In the parking garage, she fumbled her keys twice before the car unlocked. She drove like the roads were thinner than usual, like every red light was a personal insult. Her hands clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white. All she could see was the woman’s hand at the router. The cable tugging free. The screen freezing mid-truth.
Julia’s mind rewound the scene obsessively, searching for meaning like a wound searching for a reason to bleed. Did they somehow know about the cameras? Why did Marcus look like he was trying to stop her? Why didn’t he want Julia to see? She pulled into her street too fast, tires crunching gravel at the edge of the curb.