The note sat on the desk under the coffee spoon, weighted there with the small careful precision of a man who had not been in a hurry while he wrote it.
The Hacker did not pick it up.
She was looking at the kettle.
The kettle was on the small countertop where it had been left, which was not where she had left it the last time she'd been in this room. The spout was facing the sink. She always faced the spout at the wall, because she had once burned her hand grabbing it blind off a hot plate, and she had decided after that to always face the spout at the wall. The kettle was facing the sink.
Caleb watched her notice it.
He did not say anything yet, because he was watching her and he wanted to see the part of her that the gala suit and the operational register did not get to put away.
It lasted half a second.
