Three days before the dynamics finals. 11:00 PM.
The apartment was silent. Damon stepped through the front door and hung his coat on the rack.
The living room was dark. The only light came from a focused work lamp over the kitchen island.
Selena sat on a barstool beneath it. A jeweler's loupe covered one eye. In her left hand, tweezers gripped a brass gear no bigger than a grain of rice. In her right was a metal probe fine as a needle.
She was restoring a precision mechanism.
Damon walked over quietly and stopped just outside the circle of light.
Selena's hands were impossibly steady, not the slightest tremor in them. The probe slipped past a latch invisible to the naked eye and seated the gear perfectly into place.
Damon stared at her fingers. That kind of precision couldn't have c
