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“You’re quiet,” I say.
“I’m thinking.”
“About?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
That’s not like her either.
Finally—
“…that mark,” she says.
Yeah.
That.
The one behind the guy’s ear.
Small.
Clean.
Professional.
Wrong.
“You’ve seen it before,” I say.
Not a question.
She nods once.
“Once.”
“Where?”
A beat.
Then—
“In a restricted file I wasn’t supposed to access.”
I almost smile.
“That sounds like you.”
“Don’t start.”
Wouldn’t dream of it.
“What kind of file?” I ask.
She exhales slowly.
“Black archive level.”
That—
