Priya's contact came back with nothing useful.
Two paragraphs. Polite, professional, essentially useless. The numbered company was registered in a jurisdiction chosen specifically for its opacity and without legal subpoena power there was nowhere further to go from the outside.
She closed the email and opened her notebook.
Can't get in from outside. Need inside.
She stared at it. Then she looked at the ceiling. Then she looked back at it because the ceiling wasn't giving her anything either.
The inside was the problem. Everything she needed was behind doors she couldn't open from the outside but she wasn't on the outside anymore — she was eating dinner at his kitchen table and reorganizing his cabinets and sitting close enough to him in the evenings to hear him exhale when something o
